TWICE  MARRIED: 


A  STORY  OF 


CONNECTICUT  LIFE. 


KINO.  " 1  have  sworn  an  oath. 

PRINCESS.  Our  lady  help  my  lord !    He'll  be  forsworn." 

Love's  Labor  Lost.    Act  II.,  Scene  1st, 


NEW  YOKE: 
DIX  &  EDWARDS,  10  PARK  PLACE. 

LONDON: 

SAMPSON  LOW  &  SON. 
1855. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1865,  by 

DIX  &  EDWARDS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of 
New  York. 


HOLMAN  &  GRAY, 
Printers  and  Storeotypers. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


THE  following  romance  has  appeared  in  parts  in 
PUTNAM'S  MONTHLY,  in  each  number  of  which,  for 
a  great  portion  of  the  present  year,  it  has  regularly 
occupied  a  place.  Its  very  kind  reception,  not  merely 
by  the  critical  authorities  of  the  press,  but  by  the 
public  at  large,  has  induced  the  publishers  to  present 
it  in  the  present  form,  in  which  they  confidently  trust 
it  will  meet  with  the  same  generous  appreciation  as 
heretofore. 


2013153 


PREFACE. 


IT  is  the  custom,  now-a-days,  for  the  author 
of  a  book  to  discourse  to  the  reader,  in  the 
preface,  touching  the  object  and  design  of  the 
work,  and  concerning  the  intent  wherewith  it 
was  undertaken.  Every  novel,  in  this  utilita- 
rian age,  is  written  with  an  earnest  purpose  of 
some  sort  or  other.  Even  fairy  stories  and 
tales  of  genii  and  giants  are  contrived,  (like 
sugar-coated  pills),  in  a  most  cunning  fashion, 
to  the  end  that,  while  simple  and  ingenuous 
youth  suppose  they  are  acquiring  only  a  know- 
ledge of  the  exploits  of  some  Jack  the  Giant 
Killer,  or  Puss  in  Boots,  a  subtle  moral  may  be 


VI  PREFACE. 

thereby  instilled,  at  every  turn  of  the  leaves, 
into  their  unsuspecting  minds. 

Now,  doubtless,  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  to 
confess  it,  nevertheless  it  is  the  truth,  that,  in 
writing  this  book,  the  highest  impulse  of  which 
I  was  conscious  was  a  very  ardent  desire  to 
amuse  merely  the  readers  of  Putnam's  Monthly. 
My  story  pretends  to  be  nothing  more  than  a 
plain  and  homely  sketch  of  rustic  Yankee  life 
and  character.  If  the  reader  discover  a  moral 
he  is  entirely  welcome  to  it.  Indeed,  he  has 
a  perfect  and  indefeasible  right  to  call  it  his 
own ;  for  I  assure  him,  on  my  honor,  that  it 
was  not  put  in  by  design. 

I  am  vastly  gratified  at  being  told  that  my 
humble  endeavor  to  please  has  not  been  alto- 
gether unsuccessful ;  and  I  have  very  willingly 
accepted  the  obliging  offer  of  the  publishers 
of  the  Magazine  to  confer  upon  my  story  the 


PREFACE.  yii 

dignity  of  covers  and  binding,  and  to  make  a 
book  of  it.     I  sincerely  hope  their  predictions, 
that  the  public  will  regard  it  with  even  greater 
favor  in  its  new  form,  will  be  verified. 
SUFFIELD,  Coxx., 
Aug.  10,  1855. 


TWICE  MARUIE-D, 


CHAPTER    I. 

IN  the  northeast  corner  of  the  hilly  county 
of  Windham,  in  the  steady  old  State  of  Con- 
necticut, there  lies  a  quiet  valley  of  some 
three  or  four  miles  in  length,  with  a  breadth 
varying  from  a  furlong  to  a  mile.  The  Niptuck 
river,  of  yore  a  noisy,  brawling  brook,  abound- 
ing in  rapids  and  cascades — but  which  of  late 
has  been  tamed,  and  set  busily  at  work,  spin- 
ning and  weaving  like  a  thrifty  old-time 
housewife — no  sooner  overleaps  the  last  mill- 
dam  that  obstructs  its  course,  and  hurries 
swiftly  through  the  narrow  gorge  in  which  the 
northern  end  of  the  valley  terminates,  than  it 
suddenly  subsides  into  quiet,  and  becomes  one 

of  the  most  peaceful  and  well  behaved  streams 
1 


2  TWICE    MARRIED. 

in  the  whole  world;  thenceforth,  flowing 
smoothly  along,  over  a  bed  of  white  sand  and 
pebbles,  through  level,  green  meadows,  and 
between  low,  sloping  banks,  fringed  with 
drooping  willows,  with  a  current  so  gentle 
as  to  be  hardly  perceptible.  For  a  space, 
upon  the  widening  surface  of  the  shallow 
tide,  float  bubbles  and  foam-flakes  from  the 
rapids  above,  but  as  the  stream  expands,  and 
its  current  grows  more  languid,  these  relics 
of  precedent  agitation  disappear,  and  in  still, 
hot  midsummer  noons,  when  the  faint  breezes 
that  fan  the  hill-tops  are  unfelt  in  the  valleys 
between,  the  Niptuck  sleeps  in  its  quiet, 
shady  bed,  without  a  ripple  upon  its  placid 
bosom,  as  though  it  were  a-weary  with  its 
toils  among  the  water-wheels  and  mill-dams 
further  up  the  stream. 

The  range  of  hills  that  form  the  western 
limits  of  the  valley  presents  a  bold  front  of 
precipitous  cliffs,  hidden  for  half  the  year  by 
the  plumy  blossoms,  and  dark  green  foliage 
of  the  chestnut  woods,  that  grow  among  the 
ledges ;  but  the  acclivity  of  the  eastern  hills 
is  a  gentle  slope  of  fertile  land,  divided  by 


TWICE  MARRIED.  3 

intersecting  walls  and  fences  into  fields  and 
meadows,  and  thickly  dotted  with  white  farm- 
houses, orchards,  and  clumps  of  walnuts  and 
shade-trees. 

A  broad  highway  runs  through  the  valley, 
near  the  foot  of  this  slope,  which,  for  nearly 
its  whole  extent,  is  bordered  by  long  rows  of 
umbrageous  maples,  while  here  and  there,  by 
the  road-side,  a  stately  elm  towers  aloft  into 
the  air,  sheltering  a  snug  farm-house  and  its 
shady,  green,  front  door-yard,  beneath  its 
spreading  branches. 

About  midwa}^,  on  a  gentle  swell  of  land, 
a  spur  of  the  eastern  hills,  round  which  the 
loitering  river  makes  a  sweeping  bend,  the 
trees  are  more  thickly  planted,  and  at  a  little 
distance  the  place  resembles  a  grove  of  elms 
and  buttonwoods.  But  glimpses  of  white 
dwellings  peeping  out  from  among  the  dense 
foliage,  and  a  slim  spire,  surmounted  by  a 
gilded  ball  and  vane,  rising  over  all,  reveal 
the  spot  where  the  village  of  Walbury  stands, 
almost  hidden  among  the  trees. 

Now,  although  Walbury  was  settled  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  1671,  and  has  ever  since  been 


4  TWICE   MARRIED. 

inhabited  by  Yankees — for  I  dare  say  that  even 
at  this  day  there  are  not  in  the  whole  town 
a  dozen  persons  who  were   born  outside  the 
limits    of   the    State   of    Connecticut — it    is, 
nevertheless,  one  of  the  most  quiet  and  least 
enterprising  places  in  Christendom.     The  peo- 
ple, instead  of  partaking  of  the  restless,  uneasy 
disposition,  which  is  the  general  characteristic 
of  the  Yankee   race,  are   for   the   most   part 
averse  to  bustle  and  change,  and  witness  from 
afar  the  march  of  improvement,  and  the  rapid 
progress  of  the  age,    with   apprehension   and 
extreme    disfavor.      The   old,    square,    sharp- 
gabled  meeting-house,  in   the   middle  of  the 
broad  street,  has  stood  its  ground  these  four- 
score years.     It  has  scarcely  changed  in  aspect 
since  the  sunny  Sabbath  afternoon,  when  the 
pious  congregation  then  assembled  within  its 
walls  were  amazed  by  the  profane  sound  of 
horses'  hoofs,  clattering  in  hot  haste  along  the 
highway,   and   suddenly  halting  at  the  sanc- 
tuary  door,   and  the    thrilling   shout  of    the 
dusty  courier,  that  bore  from  town  to  town 
the  startling  tidings  of  the  battles  at  Lexing- 
ton and  Concord.     The  tavern  on  the  corner 


TWICE  MARRIED. 


of  the  cross  street  leading  towards  the  river 
was  a  well-known  and  popular  hostelry  with 
the  commissary's  teamsters  in  the  Revolution- 
ary War.  The  memory  of  man  runneth  not 
back  to  the  time  when  the  graven  image  of  a 
chubby  Bacchus,  seated  astride  upon  a  wine- 
cask,  was  hoisted  into  its  perch  in  the  main 
fork  of  the  venerable  elm  that  grows  before 
the  door.  The  sign  over  the  wide,  low- 
browed portal,  of  the  one-story  gable-roofed 
store  near  by,  has  served  to  indicate  the  place 
of  business  of  three  generations  of  Deacon 
Joab  Sweenys.  Layard  himself  would  find  it 
a  most  difficult  matter  to  decipher  the  inscrip- 
tion upon  its  faded  weather-worn  surface. 
The  patriarch  of  the  village  well  remembers 
being  soundly  flogged  in  the  humble  school- 
house  at  the  end  of  the  street.  There  are 
but  few  dwellings  in  the  village  of  less  than 
fifty  years  of  age,  and  even  the  barns  have 
an  air  of  antiquity  about  them  that  makes 
them  the  most  venerable  of  their  class.  The 
inhabitants  are  remarkable  for  a  staid  and 
placid  demeanor,  and  a  gravity,  and,  indeed, 
even  a  solemnity  of  deportment,  by  which 


6  TWICE   MARRIED. 

they  are  easily  distinguished  when  they  ven- 
ture abroad;  and  it  is  not  wonderful  that  even 
their  horses  and  cattle  are  more  noted  for 
good  condition  than  for  speed  and  activity. 

All  the  customs  and  manners  of  the  Niptuck 
valley  are  of  the  olden  time.  Saturday  night 
is  there  kept  sacred  as  the  commencement  of 
the  holy  Sabbath.  Only  of  Sunday  evenings 
do  the  Walbury  swains  venture  to  go  a-court- 
ing.  Some  of  the  aged  men  in  the  village 
still  wear  breeches  and  shoe-buckles.  The 
Sunday  coats  of  the  farmers  are  made  of  home- 
spun cloth  ;  and  even  these  they  are  accus- 
tomed in  hot  weather  to  take  off  in  meeting, 
and  sit  dozing  in  their  shirt-sleeves  during  the 
lengthy  sermon  time.  Quiltings  and  apple- 
paring  bees  are  the  most  noted  social  gather- 
ings, at  which  the  young  folks  of  different 
sexes  meet  each  other,  and  in  the  moonshiny 
October  nights,  the  old-fashioned  husking 
frolics  are  as  frequent  as  of  yore.  Great 
flocks  of  sheep  are  wont  to  graze  upon  the 
hill-side  pastures ;  and  numerous  descendants 
of  the  geese  that  flourished  in  a  former  cen- 
tury are  suffered  to  crop  the  short  grass 


TWICE  MARRIED.  7 

growing  with  the  mulleins  and  may-weed 
upon  the  margins  of  the  road,  as  their  ances- 
tors did  a  hundred  years  ago,  to  stalk  about 
the  green  in  single  file,  with  three-pronged 
yokes  upon  their  necks,  or,  at  other  times, 
to  run  wildly  along  the  street,  with  wings 
outstretched,  cackling  and  screaming  shrill 
warnings  of  an  approaching  storm. 

Indeed,  this  secluded  little  nook,  lying  in 
the  midst  of  busy  New  England,  resembles 
the  interior  of  some  ancient  church  in  the 
heart  of  a  great,  bustling,  and  prosperous  city, 
which,  though  surrounded  on  every  side  by 
the  rush  and  turmoil  of  trade  and  business, 
and  within  hearing  of  the  footsteps  of  the 
jostling  multitudes  in  the  streets,  is,  neverthe- 
less, pervaded  all  the  week  with  the  spirit  of 
stillness  and  repose. 

On  the  eastern  side  of  the  way,  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  village  street,  nearly  half  a  mile 
from  Walbury  meeting-house,  stands  a  man- 
sion, of  which,  as  it  appeared  some  thirty-odd 
years  ago,  I  wish  the  reader  to  get  a  notion. 
The  space  between  the  house  and  the  highway 
formed  a  narrow  yard,  completely  canopied 


S  TWICE   MARRIED. 

by  the  spreading  branches  of  a  gigantic  elm. 
Between  this  inclosure  and  the  garden — from 
which,  on  either  hand,  it  was  fenced  by  white 
picket-palings — a  short  lane  or  carriage-drive 
led  from  the  street,  up  the  gentle  slope,  and 
so  by  the  southern  end  of  the  house  to  the 
barn  and  out-houses  in  the  rear.  The  house 
itself  was  a  large,  old-fashioned,  two-story 
dwelling,  painted  white,  with  a  shingled  roof, 
slanting  steeply  downwards  from  a  high  peak, 
surmounted  by  a  huge  turret  of  a  chimney, 
the  birth-place  of  many  generations  of  swal- 
lows. There  was  a  low,  one-story  wing  or 
L-part  at  the  rear  of  the  main  building, 
fronted  by  a  broad,  deep  porch,  that  would 
have  been  too  sunny  except  for  the  vines, 
that,  climbing  up  the  slender  posts,  overran 
the  roofs,  and  hung  in  festoons  from  the 
eaves.  Here,  in  the  autumn,  could  be  seen, 
pendent  from  the  posts  to  which  they  were 
fastened  at  either  end,  weighty  strings  of 
quartered  apples,  of  sweet  corn  boiled  on  the 
cob  for  winter  succotash,  and  of  gaudy  red  pep- 
pers, drying  in  the  sun.  Here  used  to  stand  a 
mighty  cheese-press,  and  upon  a  narrow  shelf 


TWICE  MARRIED.  9 

outside  were  wont  to  be  displayed  rows  of 
resplendent  milk-pans,  freshly  scalded,  shining 
and  glittering  like  shields  of  burnished  silver. 

Across  the  lane  from  this  porch,  just  within 
the  limits  of  the  garden,  grew  a  stately  pear- 
tree,  sheltering  the  house  from  the  noon-day 
glare  and  heat.  It  was  famous  throughout  the 
valley  for  its  great  size  and  productiveness, 
as  well  as  for  the  unrivaled  excellence  of  the 
seven  different  kinds  of  fruit  which  it  bore. 
There  was  also  a  row  of  English  cherry-trees 
bordering  the  lane,  and  scores  of  plum,  peach, 
and  apricot  trees,  in  the  garden  ;  besides, 
currant,  gooseberry,  and  raspberry  bushes 
growing  peaceably  together  in  a  row  next  to 
the  street  fence,  thrusting  their  fruit-laden 
twigs  and  branches  between  the  pickets, 
thereby  inciting  and  tempting  little  boys, 
loitering  on  their  way  to  school,  to  trespasses 
and  petty  larcenies. 

Beneath  the  windows  of  the  house,  in  the 
front  yard,  flourished  a  little  jungle  of  lilac- 
bushes,  and  a  bird-rose  bush  clambered  up  a 
trellis  and  over  the  architrave  of  the  front 
doorway,  which,  in  the  month  of  June,  was  a 


10  TWICE  MARRIED. 

perfect  wilderness  of  roses,  filling  the  air  all 
about,  out-doors  and  in-doors,  with  damask 
perfumes. 

Behind  the  house  was  a  spacious  back-yard, 
and  a  deep  well  in  the  middle  of  it,  with  a 
crotch  and  lofty  sweep,  which  resembled,  at  a 
distance,  the  stout,  stumpy  mast,  and  long, 
graceful  lateen  yard  of  a  Maltese  felucca. 
Upon  one  side  was  the  wood-shed  and  chip- 
yard,  and  on  the  other  a  cider-mill,  open  at 
the  front,  and  used  for  nearly  all  the  year  as  a 
tool-house  and  shelter  for  carts  and  wagons. 
The  rearward  limit  of  the  space  was  formed  by 
a  great  yellow  barn,  with  an  arch,  and  a  blank, 
sombre-looking  fanlight,  painted  in  dead,  dull 
black  over  the  great  doors,  and  a  long  row  of 
pigeon-holes  cut  through  the  boards,  just  be- 
neath the  eaves.  Between  the  cider-mill  and 
barn  was  the  mouth  of  a  lane,  closed  by  a  gate, 
and  leading  out  upon  the  farm,  away  up  the 
hill-side,  to  its  very  summit. 

Here  dwelt,  a  good  many  years  ago,  a 
worthy  gentleman,  who,  as  his  grandfather 
and  father  had  been  before  him,  was  esteemed 
by  the  whole  neighborhood  and  township  to 


TWICE  MARRIED.  11 

be  a  man  of  no  small  mark  and  consideration. 
He  was  the  most  wealthy  inhabitant  of  the 
Niptuck  valley,  a  distinction  that  will  of  itself 
account  for  the  high  regard  in  which  he  was 
held  by  his  townsmen.  From  the  lowly 
station  of  private  in  the  Walbury  "flood- 
woods,"  he  had  risen,  by  regular  and  succes- 
sive promotions,  to  the  rank  of  Colonel  of  the 
XXIXth  Regiment  of  Connecticut  State  Mi- 
litia. 

Moreover,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to 
the  General  Assembly,  as  one  of  the  represent- 
atives of  the  ancient  town  of  Walbury,  as 
often  as  he  pleased,  which  was,  in  fact,  pretty 
nearly  every  spring.  But  what  he  himself 
chiefly  gloried  in  was,  that,  for  many  years  in 
succession,  he  had  been  regularly  appointed  by 
the  legislature,  one  of  the  justices  of  the  peace, 
within  and  for  the  county  of  Windham.  Once, 
even,  for  a  single  year,  during  the  trial  of  an 
experiment  with  the  judiciary  system  of  the 
State,  he  had  occupied  a  seat  upon  the  bench 
of  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  as  a  puisne  or 
"  side"  judge.  Of  this  appointment  he  was 
extremely  proud,  and  it  served  ever  afterwards 


12  TWICE  MARRIED. 

as  the  epoch  from  which  he  reckoned  the  date 
of  every  other  event. 

It  so  happened,  therefore,  that  besides  the 
usual  prefix  of  "  Mister,"  this  gentleman  was 
fairly  entitled  to  either  of  three  several  handles 
to  his  name.  But  his  neighbors,  to  his  secret 
disappointment  and  chagrin,  instead  of  learn- 
ing, like  the  rest  of  the  world,  to  address  him 
by  the  worshipful  title  of  "  Judge,"  remained 
steadfast  in  the  long-continued  habit  of  accost- 
ing him  as  "  Colonel"  and  "  Squire,"  and,  as 
will  hereinafter  more  fully  appear,  when  some 
of  the  younger  and  less  reverend  spoke  of  him 
behind  his  back,  they  were  wont  to  designate 
him  by  still  another  appellation. 

Colonel  Starr  Manners  was  a  stout,  thick- 
set man,  with  a  round  belly,  and  short, 
stumpy  legs.  He  wore  his  coarse,  stiff,  white 
hair  and  bristly  whiskers  cropped  short  and 
close,  so  that  the  ruddy  soil  of  his  skin  was 
everywhere  visible  through  the  hirsute  stub- 
ble, thereby  causing  his  complexion  somewhat 
to  resemble  that  of  a  very  clean  and  well- 
conditioned  white  shoat.  As  for  his  dress, 
besides  a  high,  white  shirt-collar  of  unusual 


TWICE    MARRIED.  13 

volume,  there  was  nothing  remarkable  about 
it.  Of  late  he  had  been  accustomed  to  wear 
loose  and  ample  garments  of  fine  kerseymere 
and  broadcloth,  though,  to  be  sure,  when  he 
was  at  home,  and  there  were  no  visitors  of 
distinction,  he  used  to  wear  a  coat  as  seldom 
as  any  Turk  or  Indian  chief.  He  was  a 
shrewd,  observing  man,  and,  by  means  of  this 
quality  and  habit  of  mind,  had  contrived  to 
acquire  a  fund  of  practical  knowledge,  which 
stood  him  in  very  good  stead  of  the  bookish 
wisdom  that  many  of  his  fellows  and  asso- 
ciates in  public  life  had  been  taught  by  the 
professors  and  tutors  of  Yale  College.  He 
had  a  bluff,  hearty  manner,  was  good-humored 
and  benevolent  in  disposition,  yet,  withal, 
extremely  self-willed  and  opinionated,  and  apt, 
if  flatly  opposed,  to  be  violent  and  overbearing. 
Nevertheless,  like  many  other  obstinate  peo- 
ple, he  was  quite  easily  managed  by  those 
who  knew  how  to  humor  him.  His  wife, 
who  was  his  junior  by  some  fifteen  years,  a 
brisk,  rosy,  handsome  little  woman,  with  a 
sharp,  clear,  merry  gray  eye,  (it  was  whispered 
by  the  Walbury  folks,)  could  wind  him  round 


14  TWICE    MARRIED. 

and  round  either  one  of  her  plump,  white 
fingers  that  she  chose.  Howbeit,  the  Colonel 
was  generally  reputed  to  have  a  stiff  will  of 
his  own,  and,  in  consequence,  was  quite  often 
spoken  of  when  out  of  hearing  as  "  Old  Fixed 
Starr,"  a  nickname  first  invented  and  applied 
to  him  by  his  own  head  hired  man,  a  waggish 
fellow  of  droll  speech  and  countenance,  who 
never  opened  his  queer-looking  mouth  but  the 
neighbors  made  ready  to  laugh. 

The  Colonel  was  a  popular  and  efficient 
magistrate.  Twice  a  month,  or  oftener,  he 
was  accustomed  to  hold  a  justice  court  in  the 
south  front  room  of  his  house,  and  the  session 
of  this  tribunal  used  to  be  indicated  by  divers 
signs  and  tokens,  that  even  the  wayfaring 
man,  passing  by  in  the  street,  if  a  Yankee, 
would  not  have  failed  to  understand.  The 
horses  hitched  by  the  road-side,  at  the  gate, 
or  under  the  shade  of  the  cherry  trees  in  the 
lane,  standing  hour  after  hour,  stamping  and 
whisking  their  tails  to  drive  away  the  swarms 
of  tormenting  flies  that  disturbed  their  drowsy 
meditations  ;  the  little  squads  of  men  grouped 
about  the  door  of  the  court-room  at  the  cor- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  15 

ner  of  the  house,  or  leaning  across  the  fence, 
talking  together  in  couples,  discussing  the 
case  on  trial,  or,  perhaps,  proposing  "swaps" 
or  driving  bargains,  never  ceasing,  meanwhile, 
to  whittle  diligently;  the  dogs  lounging 
around  the  steps  at  their  masters'  feet,  or 
romping  together  in  the  thick  grass  of  the 
front  door-yard ;  and  the  glimpses  through 
the  open  windows  of  sweating  spectators, 
sitting  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  and  listening,  with 
the  interest  that  Anglo-Saxons  ever  take  in 
judicial  proceedings,  to  the  reading  of  the  de- 
claration and  pleadings,  the  testimony  of  the 
witnesses,  the  argument  of  the  lawyers,  or  the 
opinions  of  his  worship,  the  justice,  himself. 

The  equity  of  the  judgments  of  this  court 
was  rarely  questioned ;  for  the  long  experience 
of  the  Colonel,  as  a  legislator  and  magistrate, 
was  a  sufficient  warranty  of  his  knowledge 
and  ability  to  administer  justice  according  to 
law.  With  the  two  volumes  of  Swift's 
System  as  lamps  to  his  feet,  and  the  Revised 
Statutes  as  a  staff  in  his  hand,  the  Colonel  was 
able  to  see  his  way  and  guide  his  course 
among  the  crooked  mazes  of  the  most  com- 


16  TWICE    MARRIED. 

plicated  case.  And  although  there  often 
would  arise  puzzling  interlocutory  questions, 
with  respect  to  such  abstruse  and  technical 
matters  as  pleas  in  abatement,  demurrers,  and 
the  admissibility  of  evidence,  the  Colonel  rarely 
found  much  difficulty  in  making  up  his  mind 
how  to  decide  the  final  issue.  His  natural 
sagacity  and  shrewd  common  sense  enabled 
him  to  perceive  upon  which  side  lay  the  right, 
notwithstanding  the  legal  mists  by  which  the 
pettifoggers  endeavored  to  obscure  the  view ; 
and  though  it  must  be  confessed  that  his 
decisions  were  not  always  good  law,  they 
seldom  failed,  nevertheless,  to  be  excellent 
justice. 

There  were,  to  be  sure,  irreverent  people, 
who,  while  smarting  with  the  disappointment 
occasioned  by  a  defeat,  would  sometimes  revive 
a  piece  of  idle  gossip,  which  was  kept  current 
by  these  very  means.  It  was  said  that  the 
Colonel,  whenever  he  expected  to  try  a  cause 
of  unusual  importance,  doubt,  or  complexity, 
would  be  sure  to  leave  ajar  the  door  between 
the  south  room  and  the  entry,  so  that  his  wife, 
in  the  sitting-room  beyond,  could  hear  the 


TWICE    MARRIED.  17 

proceedings  as  well  as  himself,  and  thereby  be 
enabled  to  give  him  the  benefit  of  her  advice 
with  respect  to  the  merits  of  the  case.  But 
all  the  ill-mannered  jeers,  gibes,  and  grumblings 
of  these  discontented  fellows,  did  not,  in  the 
least,  shake  the  confidence  of  the  public  in  the 
wisdom  of  the  Colonel's  legal  decisions,  for,  as 
everybody  knew,  Mrs.  Manners  was  a  shrewd, 
clever  woman,  of  more  than  ordinary  wit  and 
learning,  and  was  as  well  able  to  give  discreet 
counsel  in  a  difficult  matter  as  e'er  a  man  in 
Walbury. 

But  besides  these  judicial  labors — in  which 
the  Colonel  took  great  delight — he  performed, 
for  nearly  all  the  town,  the  various  ministerial 
duties  that  usually  appertain  to  the  office  of  a 
rural  justice  of  the  peace.  He  draughted  and 
took  the  acknowledgment  of  all  deeds  and 
other  legal  instruments;  he  administered  the 
oath  of  office  to  the  selectmen,  the  haywards, 
the  tithing-men,  and  the  other  town  officers ; 
he  presided  at  meetings  of  the  civil  authority 
for  the  nomination  of  taverners,  and  the  selec- 
tion of  fit  names  to  put  into  the  jury-box; 
and,  finally,  he  joined  in  the  strong  but  silken 


18  TWICE    MARRIED. 

bonds  of  matrimony  more  couples,  in  the 
course  of  a  year,  than  even  Parson  Graves 
himself. 

There  is  no  country  in  Christendom  where 
it  is  so  easy  for  any  willing  pair  either  to  be 
married  or  to  be  divorced  (as  they  may  happen 
to  be  inclined),  without  tedious  delays  and 
formalities,  as  in  the  Puritan  State  of  Connec- 
ticut. In  some  of  the  counties,  it  is  said,  the 
suits  for  divorce  exceed  in  number  all  the 
other  causes  upon  the  dockets  of  the  courts, 
and,  until  within  a  year  or  two,  the  Legislature 
used  to  be  busy  for  nearly  half  its  session, 
hearing  the  plaints  of  discontented  married 
folks,  and  cutting  them  loose  from  each  other 
by  means  of  special  enactments.  On  the  other 
hand,  instead  of  the  three  weeks'  posting  of  a 
written  notice,  declaratory  of  an  intention  to 
marry,  whicli  was  formerly  required  by  the 
laws  of  the  neighboring  states — whereby  it 
was  rendered  necessary  to  advertise  a  wedding 
by  placards,  like  a  sheriff's  sale — in  Connecti- 
cut it  has  always  been  sufficient,  according  to 
the  statute  in  such  cases  made  and  provided,  to 
give  notice  to  the  world  by  a  single  proclaim- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  19 

tion  only,  so  that  it  has  often  happened  that  a 
couple  have  been  published  at  the  meeting- 
house, just  before  the  benediction,  at  the  close 
of  afternoon  service,  on  Sunday,  and  in  ten 
minutes  afterwards  have  been  duly  joined  in 
marriage  at  the  parsonage  hard  by. 

It  would  be  natural  to  suppose  that  a  statute 
imposing  such  slight  restraints  and  reasonable 
delays  would  be  cheerfully  obeyed.  But, 
although  the  Yankees  are  (as,  indeed,  they 
ought  to  be,)  the  most  orderly  and  law-abiding 
people  in  the  world,  an  opportunity  of  dex- 
trously  evading  the  spirit  and  intent  of  a  law, 
while  keeping  safely  within  the  letter  of  its 
provisions,  presents  a  temptation  which  a 
shrewd  Yankee  finds  it  difficult  to  resist. 

So,  for  time  immemorial,  it  has  been  a  cus- 
tom, observed  by  many  ardent  young  people 
living  in  the  border  towns  of  the  states  adja- 
cent to  Connecticut,  to  be  posted  in  their  own 
parishes  for  a  single  Sunday,  and  then,  being 
thus  duly  qualified  for  matrimony,  according 
to  the  laws  of  Connecticut,  to  straightway 
cross  the  line,  and  be  married  forthwith  by 
some  good-natured  justice  of  the  peace,  or 


20  TWICE    MARRIED. 

other  proper  authority ;  avoiding  by  this  strata- 
gem the  other  two  weeks  of  probation  and 
irksome  delay,  to  which  they  would  have  been 
subjected  by  a  strict  adherence  to  the  letter 
of  the  statute  of  their  own  native  common- 
wealth. Now  Walbury  being  not  only  a 
border  town,  but  one  lying  near  the  very  cor- 
ner of  the  state,  not  far  distant  from  the  fron- 
tiers of  both  Massachusetts  and  Rhode  Island, 
in  course  of  time  became  a  sort  of  Gretna 
Green,  to  which  people  in  haste  to  be  married 
were  wont  to  resort ;  and  Colonel  Manrnes, 
being  the  most  notable  justice  of  the  peace  of 
the  vicinage,  it  happened,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
that  almost  every  couple  that  came  to  Wal- 
bury on  an  urgent  matrimonial  errand,  from 
across  the  border,  applied  to  him.  So,  by 
means  of  these  circumstances,  it  came  to  pass 
that  he  married  more  people  than  even  the 
minister,  and  from  this  source  derived  a  very 
considerable  revenue. 

It  was  sometimes  whispered  by  the  village 
gossips,  that  the  Colonel  was  not  always  as 
particular  as  he  ought  to  have  been  in  his 
questions  to  candidates  for  matrimony,  con- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  21 

cerning  the  evidence  and  the  fact  of  the 
previous  public  notice  of  their  intentions 
thereto ;  and  Miss  Tabitha  Graves,  the  parson's 
daughter,  who  was  the  chief  of  the  village 
band  of  elderly  young  ladies,  was  accustomed, 
at  meetings  of  the  Dorcas  Society  and  Sewing 
Circle,  to  inveigh,  with  excessive  acrimony, 
against  the  law  by  which  a  mere  magistrate 
and  a  layman  was  permitted  to  officiate  in  the 
marriage  ceremony.  Indeed,  though  she  was 
a  rigid  Presbyterian,  she  was  almost  inclined 
to  consider  this  rite  as  a  sacrament  of  the 
church,  to  be  administered  only  by  the  conse- 
crated clergy. 

But  as  it  was  very  well  known  and  under- 
stood that  Miss  Tabitha  held  the  folly  which 
entices  young  folks  into  the  state  of  wedlock 
in  great  scorn  and  contempt,  and  scarcely  ever 
heard  of  a  wedding  without  expressing,  albeit 
in  a  sharp  and  snappish  tone,  her  pity  and 
commiseration  for  the  fond  and  foolish  bride, 
people  did  not  regard  her  animadversions  as 
worthy  of  serious  attention,  though  if  the 
truth  were  only  known,  it  was  indeed  a  fact 
that  the  Colonel,  rather  than  lose  a  good  fee, 


22  TWICE    MARRIED. 

was  willing  to  make  a  pair  of  any  two  single 
lovers  that  desired  him  to  couple  them  ;  and  if 
the  parties  appeared  to  be  of  a  properly  mature 
age,  was  in  nowise  disposed  to  be  over  nice 
and  punctilious  about  the  matter  of  the  bans. 
The  Colonel  and  his  wife  had  but  one  child, 
a  daughter,  upon  whom,  as  it  is  natural  to 
suppose,  her  parents  bestowed  the  most  tender 
affection,  and  for  the  reason  that  she  was  the 
sole  heiress  apparent  of  a  large  estate,  she  had 
been,  of  course,  from  her  childhood,  the  sub- 
ject of  a  large  amount  of  village  gossip.  Now 
this  young  person  is  to  be  the  heroine  of  my 
story ;  and  I  feel  no  little  concern,  therefore, 
at  being  obliged  to  confess  that  which  every- 
body would  suspect,  even  if  I  should  attempt 
to  conceal  it.  Lucy  Manners  was  a  spoiled 
child,  and  she  grew  up  to  be  such  a  willful, 
wayward  little  hussy,  that  when  but  a  little 
puss  in  pantalettes,  of  no  more  than  thirteen 
years  old,  she  was  mistress  of  her  father's 
house,  and  had  everything  her  own  way, 
except  when  her  mother  contrived  to  out- 
manage  her.  However,  as  it  almost  always 
happened  that  Lucy's  own  way  was  the  pret- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  23 

tiest  way  in  the  world,  I  do  not  think,  after 
all,  that  it  was  any  great  matter  to  be  sorry 
for. 

She  was  a  shrewd  body  withal,  as  her 
mother's  child  would  be  apt  to  be,  and  having 
devoured  with  an  insatiable  appetite  the  con- 
tents of  every  novel  in  the  parish,  and  received 
instructions  in  Latin  from  Parson  Graves,  the 
minister,  and  having  been  afterwards  sent  to 
complete  her  education  at  the  notable  board- 
ing-school of  Misses  Primber,  at  Hartford,  the 
gossips  were  probably  not  very  far  from  the 
truth  when  they  affirmed,  that  she  knew  a 
good  deal  more  than  any  other  young  woman 
of  her  age  in  Walbury,  and  almost  as  much  as 
the  Parson  himself.  Indeed,  I  dare  say  that, 
with  respect  to  some  subjects,  her  knowledge 
even  exceeded  that  of  the  worthy  divine. 

I  am  of  a  good  mind  to  say  nothing  concern- 
ing Lucy's  person ;  for,  as  everybody  knows, 
Ipach  author  that  writes  a  novel  or  story  is 
sure  to  represent  the  heroine  of  his  tale  as 
the  most  beautiful  creature  that  ever  lived ; 
just  as  the  knights-errant  of  old  used  to  stroll 
about  the  country,  asserting  everywhere  the 


24  TWICE    MARRIED. 

preeminent  charms  of  their  respective  lady- 
loves, and  breaking  each  other's  heads  and 
bones  whenever  they  chanced  to  meet,  and  to 
disagree  upon  this  point,  as  was  almost  always 
sure  to  happen.  I  say  I  am  almost  of  a  good 
mind  not  to  tell  whether  Lucy  Manners  was 
handsome  or  not,  but  leave  each  one  to  form 
his  own  opinion.  For  it  is  evident,  that, 
whereas,  in  the  days  of  chivalry,  there  could 
have  been  but  one  of  all  the  knights-errant 
in  Christendom  whose  claims  were  really 
veritable,  so  now  there  can  be  but  a  single 
author  of  all  the  legion  of  story-writers  that 
affirms  the  simple  truth  respecting  his  heroine. 
And  I  fear  that  it  would  look  like  presump- 
tion in  me — who  am  young  and  inexperienced, 
and  a  mere  tyro — to  assert  that  I  alone  am 
entitled  to  the  distinction  of  writing  about  the 
most  charming  heroine  that  was  ever  heard  of. 
But  if  you  had  seen  this  young  girl,  in  the 
very  month  of  May  in  which  she  attained  the 
age  of  eighteen,  just  after  her  return  home 
from  the  Misses  Primber's  school,  you  would 
not  have  thought  such  a  pretension  upon  my 
part  to  be  extravagant;  for  I  verily  believe 


TWICE    MARRIED.  25 

that  to  have  made  her  any  handsomer  than 
she  was,  would  have  been  a  needless  waste  of 
beauty. 

I  will  not  incur  the  folly  of  an  attempt  to 
describe  such  a  peerless  creature ;  yet  as  it  is 
quite  probable  that  many  will  be  curious  with 
respect  to  the  style  of  her  beauty,  and  will 
be  ready  to  ask  whether  she  was  plump  or 
thin,  fair  or  dark  complexion,  tall  or  short, 
and  so  forth,  I  will  proceed  to  be  more  expli- 
cit concerning  these  matters,  meanwhile  dis- 
claiming all  intention  of  giving  a  downright 
description  of  my  heroine,  according  to  the 
fashion  prevalent  among  authors.  And  hereby 
I  make  manifest  the  sincerity  of  my  own 
belief  in  the  superiority  of  Lucy's  good  looks. 
For  it  would  be  a  very  easy  thing — after 
having  asserted,  in  general  terms,  that  she 
was  without  a  rival — to  leave  each  of  my 
readers  to  paint  her  picture  for  himself,  and 
so  each  one  would  be  sure  to  imagine  her  to 
be  what  he  most  admires.  But  I  disdain  to 
use  any  such  unworthy  artifice,  in  order  to  gain 
for  my  heroine  the  suffrages  of  my  readers,  at 
the  expense  of  her  individuality. 
3 


26  TWICE    MARRIED. 

So  then  I  will  say  that  Lucy  was  in  hight 
about  five  feet  and  three  or  four  inches.  Her 
figure  was  slight  and  graceful,  befitting  her 
youth,  though  the  budding  beauties  of  her  form 
gave  promise  of  ripening,  in  due  season,  into 
the  symmetrical  proportions  of  mature  and 
perfect  womanhood.  She  was  very  fair,  with 
light  brown  hair  that  had  a  pale  golden  tint  in 
the  sun,  so  thick  and  wavy,  and  apt  to  curl 
withal,  that  she  used  commonly  to  wear  it  on 
her  neck  and  falling  over  her  white  shoulders ; 
though  of  late,  to  be  sure,  since  she  had  been 
at  Hartford,  it  had  grown  too  long  to  be  suf- 
fered to  have  its  own  way  in  this  fashion. 
Her  face  was  oval,  with  a  low,  broad  forehead, 
and  a  delicate  little  chin  and  rosy  mouth,  with 
dimples  in  each  cheek,  that  chastened  the 
somewhat  imperious  expression  given  to  her 
face  by  her  large,  calm  gray  eyes  and  straight 
nose.  This  blending  of  haughtiness  and 
sweetness  was  also  perceptible  in  her  manner 
as  well  as  in  her  face.  The  queen  of  gods  and 
men  could  not  assume  a  mien  more  superb 
than  this  little  country  girl;  the  queen  of 
hearts,  sweet  Venus  herself,  was  not  more 
capable  of  inspiring  love. 


TWICE    MARRIED.  27 

I  am  sure  that,  by  this  time,  I  have  made  it 
evident  to  everybody  that  my  heroine  is  a 
very  lovely,  deserving  person,  and  worthy  of 
the  place  of  honor  in  brighter  pages  than 
mine — a  reflection  at  the  same  time  pleasant 
and  painful.  I  must  confess,  however,  that  I 
am  conscious  of  feeling  a  good  deal  of  satisfac- 
tion at  my  good  fortune,  in  having  discovered 
this  "gem  of  purest  ray  serene,"  in  the  seques- 
tered valley  of  the  Niptuck ;  for  I  cannot  but 
hope  that  its  luster  will  be  reflected  upon  the 
setting  in  which  I  shall  place  it,  and  so  cause 
my  humble  story  to  be  regarded  with  com- 
placency, and  perhaps  even  with  delight  by 
those  whose  good  opinion  I  am  so  desirous  to 
gain. 

That  so  handsome  a  creature  should  have 
lovers,  was  a  matter  of  course,  and  needs  not 
be  averred.  Even  when  Lucy  was  a  little 
witch  of  ten,  and  went  to  the  district-school 
in  a  short  frock  and  pantalettes,  the  boys  used 
to  strive  for  the  privilege  of  carrying  her  din- 
ner basket,  and  the  lucky  fellow  who  secured 
her  for  a  passenger,  to  haul  home  upon  a  sled, 
was  pretty  sure  to  run  a  gauntlet  of  snow-balls 


28  TWICE    MARRIED. 

as  soon  as  he  had  left  his  lovely  fare  at  her 
father's  gate.  Indeed,  I  have  good  reason  to 
believe  that,  before  she  was  ten  years  of  age,  she 
had  received  a  proposal  of  marriage  from  her 
cousin,  John  Dashleigh — who  was  but  three 
years  older — and  that  she  had  returned  a  favor- 
able reply,  accompanied  with  several  kisses, 
and  a  great  many  tears  and  passionate  excla- 
mations ;  for  John  was  to  start  the  next 
morning,  with  his  mother  and  grandfather,  in 
the  very  tilted  wagon  in  which  the  children 
then  sat,  for  the  Genesee  country,  four  hundred 
miles  away  into  the  woods,  among  the  bears 
and  savage  Indians. 

But  as  the  years  came  and  went,  John's 
image,  for  a  while  very  carefully  cherished, 
grew  fainter  and  fainter  in  her  memory,  and  in 
the  course  of  time — she  never  could  tell  when 
or  how — it  began  to  be  considered  a  settled 
thing  that  when  she  grew  up  she  was  to 
marry  young  Joab  Sweeny,  for  whom  she  could 
not  help  feeling  a  hearty  dislike ;  and,  in  fact, 
throughout  the  neighborhood,  it  came  to  be 
well  understood  that  Fixed  Starr  and  Deacon 
Joab  Sweeny's  wife,  his  sister  Achsah,  had  ne- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  29 

gotiated  an  alliance  between  Lucy  and  her 
cousin,  young  Joab.  To  contend  against  the 
will  of  either  of  these  resolute  personages  was 
a  thing  but  seldom  dreamed  of  in  Walbury. 
To  hope  to  subvert  their  joint  decree  was  of 
course  quite  out  of  the  question.  Besides, 
when  Lucy  made  her  appearance  at  meeting, 
the  first  Sunday  after  her  return  home  from 
the  Misses  Primber's  great  school  at  Hartford, 
she  was  dressed  in  such  a  stylish  mode,  she 
carried  herself  so  haughtily,  and,  above  all,  she 
was  so  transcendently  lovely,  that  the  young 
swains  of  Walbury,  though  struck  dumb  with 
admiration,  instinctively  felt  that  it  was  mad- 
ness to  aspire  to  so  exalted  a  fortune  as  her 
love  would  confer.  To  be  sure,  the  more 
enterprising  of  the  young  fellows,  her  former 
school-mates,  had,  according  to  the  custom  of 
smart  young  Yankees,  left  their  native  village 
in  quest  of  fortunes  abroad.  I  dare  say  that  if 
either  Jack  Ross  or  Sam  Grosvenor  had  been 
at  home  that  Sunday  night,  he  would  have 
ventured  to  have  called  at  the  Colonel's  for  the 
purpose  of  inviting  Lucy  to  go  to  the  singing 
school.  Be  that  as  it  may,  young  Joab 


30  TWICE  MARRIED. 

Sweeny,  as  he  made  ready  to  do  his  mother's 
bidding,  and  went  up  into  his  chamber  to 
repair  his  Sunday  toilet  before  setting  out  to 
call  on  his  fair  cousin,  confidently  supposed 
that  he  had  no  reason  to  fear  a  rival.  Albeit, 
in  this  Joab  reckoned  without  his  host,  as  the 
saying  is,  as  will  hereinafter  more  fully  and  at 
large  appear. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE  father  of  Mrs.  Manners  had  been,  in  his 
generation,  one  of  the  richest  farmers  in  Wai- 
bury.  Her  only  brother,  John  Dashleigh,  her 
senior  by  several  years,  did  not  inherit  the 
thrifty  habits  of  his  worthy  parent,  but  grew 
up  to  be  a  handsome,  careless,  jovial,  curly- 
pated  fellow,  as  averse  to  hard  labor  as  he  was 
fond  of  riding  about  the  country  on  his  father's 
best  mare,  to  cattle  shows  and  turkey-shoots, 
and  of  attending  all  the  dances,  quiltings, 
sleigh-rides,  and  other  junkettings  that  were 
held  within  a  circuit  of  thirty  miles.  His 
father's  sudden  and  accidental  death,  the  cares 
consequent  upon  his  accession  to  the  paternal 
estate,  and,  above  all,  the  gentle  influence  of  a 
pretty,  newly-wedded  wife,  sobered  and  steadied 
him  for  a  while;  but  having  been  unfortunately 
appointed  by  the  high-sheriff  as  one  of  his 
deputies,  he  was  frequently  called  away  from 
home  to  perform  the  duties  of  his  office,  and 
began  to  neglect  his  farm  and  the  toilsome 


32  TWICE  MARRIED. 

business  of  husbandry.  Another  misfortune 
befell  him,  in  the  flattering  guise  of  an  election 
to  the  command  of  a  troop  of  horse  in  the 
militia.  He  was  proud  of  this  distinction,  and 
the  sums  that  he  expended  at  training  and 
muster  days  increased  from  year  to  year,  until 
they  consumed  the  greater  portion  of  the 
shrinking  income  of  his  farm.  His  horses  soon 
outnumbered  his  kine,  and  his  dogs — the  gos- 
sipping  neighbor-wives  said — were  sometimes 
better  fed  than  his  children.  His  debts  in- 
creased as  his  means  of  payment  diminished. 
Creditors  began  to  press  him,  and  he  had  more 
writs  served  upon  him  than  he,  as  deputy 
sheriff,  served  upon  other  people.  From  time 
to  time  he  borrowed  of  his  brother-in-law, 
until  at  last,  the  good  Colonel,  not  then  so  rich 
as  he  afterwards  became,  was  obliged  to  mort- 
gage his  wife's  outlands  to  raise  the  money  to 
lend  him.  Finally,  one  evil  day,  while  away 
from  home  at  a  cattle-show,  and  half  intoxi- 
cated, he  suffered  the  time  to  slip  by  at  which 
it  was  his  duty  (put  off  till  the  last  moment 
and  then  forgotten)  to  return  his  writs  to  a 
term  of  court.  By  this  negligence  several 


TWICE  MARRIED.  33 

plaintiffs,  the  attaching  creditors  of  an  insol- 
vent corporation,  lost  the  security  for  their 
claims  to  which  they  otherwise  would  have 
been  entitled.  Sheriff  Dashleigh  was  a  ruined 
man.  The  remnant  of  his  estate  but  half 
sufficed  to  pay  the  damages  recovered  against 
him  by  the  exasperated  creditors.  His  bonds- 
men, Colonel  Manners  and  Deacon  Joab 
Sweeny,  were  obliged  to  pay  the  heavy  balance. 
The  high-sheriff  removed  his  delinquent  deputy 
from  office.  After  that  day  John  Dashleigh 
never  held  up  his  head ;  and  six  months  after- 
wards the  neighbors  bore  his  broken  heart  to 
his  grave.  Poor  Dashleigh  had  never  forgiven 
himself  for  the  misfortune  that  he  had  brought 
upon  his  family  and  his  friends.  But  with  all 
his  big  heart  did  Colonel  Manners  accord  a  full 
pardon  to  the  brother  of  his  wife,  as  he  stood 
by  his  dying-bed,  and  pressed  his  hand  and 
bade  him  die  in  peace.  The  payment  of  the 
large  sums  required  to  satisfy  the  claims  of  the 
creditors,  injured  by  John  Dashleigh's  Idckes, 
had  wrought  a  woeful  diminution  of  the  value 
of  the  Colonel's  worldly  estate ;  but,  for 
all  that,  most  freely  did  he  give  to  the  widow 


34  TWICE  MARRIED. 

the  price  of  his  well-beloved  span  of  gray 
colts,  the  pride  of  his  heart,  when  with  her 
children  she  set  out  to  seek  a  home,  under  her 
father's  roof,  in  the  far  distant  Genesee  coun- 
try to  which  he  had  emigrated.  But  Deacon 
Joab  Sweeny  never  forgave  the  man  whose 
default  had  cost  him  five  thousand  dollars. 
He  never  forgot  the  chagrin  of  that  heavy  loss, 
although  afterwards,  his  brother-in-law,  the 
Colonel,  repaid  him  both  principal  and  interest, 
because,  as  he  said,  it  had  been  at  his  request 
that  the  Deacon  joined  with  him  in  signing 
the  bond. 

"  Good  Lud,  sister  Axy,"  said  he,  rather 
testily,  to  the  Deacon's  wife,  who  improved 
this  occasion  to  reproach  him  for  ever  having 
had  anything  to  do  with  "that  shiftless  cretur," 
as  she  had  always  called  John  Dashleigh ; 
"  Good  Lud,  ef  I  be  a  fool,  as  you  say,  I  duuno 
ez  its  any  o'  your  business,  by  gracious !  The 
Deacon's  got  his  pay,  haint  he?  and,  as  for  me, 
I  believe  I've  got  enough  left  to  live  on  a 
spell,  anyhow,  without  comin'  onto  the  town, 
and  ef  you  don't  believe  it  I'm  willing  to  com- 
pare with  anybody  in  Walbury.  'Taint  alwus 


TWICE  MARRIED.  35 

them  as  pinches  a  ninepunce  till  it  squeals 
that  gets  the  most  forehanded,  mum,  and 
'twont  do  you  a  mite  o'  hurt  to  hear  so  nuther." 

Quite  variant  and  somewhat  characteristic 
were  the  reflections  and  remarks  made  by  the 
several  parties  and  witnesses  to  this  last-men- 
tioned transaction,  immediately  after  the  de- 
parture of  Colonel  Manners  from  Deacon 
Sweeny's  house. 

"I'm  a  fool,  eh?"  muttered  the  Colonel  to 
himself,  as  he  unhitched  his  horse  from  the 
post  at  the  gate.  "Well,  maybe  I  be,"  he 
continued,  when  he  got  into  his  wagon,  gather- 
ed up  his  reins,  and  started  homewards ; 
"  maybe  I  be  ;  but  all  money's  good  for  is  to 
use,  and  ef  I  haint  made  a  good  investment  to- 
night, then  I  never  did — in  my  judgment.  In 
the  first  place  I've  stopped  Axy's  everlastin' 
jaw  about  John  Dashleigh  ;  that's  worth  a 
thousand  dollars  at  the  least  kalkilation.  I'm 
able  to  look  the  Deacon  straight  in  the  eye 
agin  without  feelin'  as  if  he  was  a  thinkin' 
about  my  askin'  him  to  put  his  name  to  that 
ere  bond;  and  that's  worth  another  thousand. 
Then  I've  pleased  my  wife,  and  under  sich 


36  TWICE    MARRIED. 

circumstances  I  can't  call  that  less  than  another 
thousand ;  and  finally  I've  suited  myself  and 
had  my  own  way,  and  that  makes  up  the 
balance  ;  and,  by  gracious  !"  pursued  theBolo- 
nel,  laughing  outright  in  the  dark  all  to  him- 
self, and  whipping  his  old  horse  in  his  glee; 
"and  the  best  on't  is  it's  all  clear  gain,  for 
the  Deacon  '11  save  every  soomarkee  on't  for 
the  children,  and  that's  jest  what  I  should  ha' 
done,  and  all  the  difference  is,  he's  got  the 
trouble  of  takin'  keer  on't,  and  I  haint." 

"  There,  Deacon,  what  have  I  alwus  told 
ye?"  cried  Mrs.  Sweeny,  turning  from  the 
window  as  her  brother  drove  away,  and  choos- 
ing to  forget  the  prophecies  of  coming  upon 
the  town  for  the  lack  of  the  money,  just  re- 
paid, to  which  she  had  given  almost  daily- 
utterance  for  the  past  five  years.  "Ah!  I 
don't  wonder  you  don't  want  to  look  up.  I 
should  think  you'd  feel  like  sinkin'  right  into 
the  airth  before  me,  when  you  think  how 
often  you've  blamed  me  for  speakin'  my  mind 
to  Starr,  and  say  in'  I'd  make  him  mad  by 
tellin'  him  jest  what  I  thought  of  his  conduct, 
a-gettin'  you  into  that  awful  scrape,  all  for  the 


TWICE  MARRIED.  37 

sake  of  that  wicked,  shiftless  cretur,  which 
you  see  it  has  come  out  jest  as  I  alwus  knew 
it  would,  in  my  own  mind,  if  I  only  kep  a 
bearin  my  witness  agin'  it.  /  knew,  and  you 
might,  too,  if  you'd  only  had  an  atom  of  my 
sense.  I  think  I've  talked  to  some  purpose, 
hey,  haint  I?  Sixty-five  hundred  dollars  don't 
grow  on  every  bush,  Deacon  Sweeny,  and  ain't 
to  be  got  nor  saved  by  talking  every  day,  by 
a  good  deal.  You'd  have  to  talk  till  your 
tongue  dropped  off  before  you'd  save  sixty-five 
hundred  dollars  by  it.  I've  talked  to  as  good 
purpose  as  the  lawyers,  I  guess.  Good  Land ! 
I  wonder  what  you'd  come  to  if  it  wan't  for 
me?" 

The  Deacon,  who  was  so  accustomed  to  the 
din  of  his  wife's  scolding  that  he  scarcely  ever 
gave  it  any  heed,  sat  meanwhile  with  his  chin 
upon  his  breast,  silently  meditating  upon  the 
recent  event.  "It's  raaly  a  very  handsome 
thing  in  Starr,"  thought  he,  "though  after 
all,  'twan't  no  mor'n  his  bounden  dooty  in 
conscience,  and  every  one  or't  to  do  their 
dooty  without  expectin'  to  be  praised  for't. 

I've  hoped  and  prayed  that  he  might  be  led  to 
4 


38  TWICE  MARRIED. 

see  it,  and  I've  had  purty  strong  faith  that  my 
prayers  would  be  answered.  I  or't  to  be 
thankful,  and  so  I  am.  I'll  give — le's  see — 
I'll  give  twenty  dollars  towards  new  shinglin' 
the  meetin-house — that's  purty  near  a  third  o' 
one  per  cent.,  and  actilly  that's  handsome — 
and  all  the  rest  '11  seem  like  clear  gain.  '  Penny 
saved  is  a  penny  airnt,'  Poor  Richard  says.  I 
know  jest  where  I  can  put  the  money  out  and 
have  it  tickin'  to  good  advantage.  Here  was 
Jim  Sparks,  only  last  night,  a-wantin'  to  borry 
two  thousand  on  his  farm,  and  I  couldn't  let 
him  have  it.  Now  I  can  accommodate  him, 
and  ef  he  goes  on  for  three  years  to  come  as 
he  has  for  three  years  back,  the  farm  '11  be 
mine,  and  for  half  its  raal  vally ;  and  the 
balance  of  the  money  I  know  where  I  can  put 
it  out  and  have  it  airn  me  as  good  as  twelve 
per  cent.,  and  as  safe,  too,  as  Hartford  Bank 
stock.  I  declare,  it  raaly  seems  as  ef  I  could 
behold  the  fingers  of  Providence  in  this  here, 
purty  plain." 

"What  a  pile  of  money,"  thought  young 
Joab,  who,  before  his  uncle's  visit,  had  been 
sitting  at  the  table,  solving  problems  in  com- 


TWICE  MARRIED.  39 

pound  interest  from  Daboll,  in  preparation  for 
the  morrow's  lesson  at  school.  "  I  wish  it 
was  mine,  and,  by  jingo,  it  will  be  when  'pa 
dies,  if  he  ever  does ;"  and  then,  having  esti- 
mated the  number  of  years  his  parent  would 
be  likely  to  survive  according  to  the  usual 
course  of  nature,  he  proceeded  to  apply  the 
rule  of  compound  interest  to  the  case  in  hand, 
and  experienced  a  deal  of  satisfaction  in  finding 
how  large  a  sum  the  money  just  paid,  with 
interest  upon  interest,  would  amount  to  at  the 
end  of  twenty  years. 

"Sixty-five  hundred  dollars!"  thought  Sally 
Blake,  the  kitchen  help,  who  sat  at  the  chim- 
ney corner  paring  apples  for  drying.  "  If  I 
had  it,  I'd  give  the  most  on't  to  Andrew  to 
buy  a  farm  and  stock  of  cattle,  and  with  the 
balance  I'd  get  furniture  and  clothes,  and  we'd 
be  married  next  Thanksgiving;"  and,  absorbed 
in  the  pleasing  fancies  to  which  these  reflec- 
tions gave  rise,  poor  Sally  forgot  what  she  was 
about,  and  actually  paused  in  her  labor,  her 
hand  holding  a  half-peeled  pippin,  resting  on 
the  tray  in  her  lap,  until  young  Joab  called 
his  mother's  attention  to  this  circumstance, 


40  TWICE  MARRIED. 

whereupon  Mrs.  Sweeny  administered  to  her 
help  a  sharp  reproof,  and  told  her  she  wasn't 
worth  her  salt ;  Joab  chuckled  and  made  faces, 
looking  up  with  a  hateful  grin  at  Sally,  as 
he  spit  on  his  slate,  and  rubbed  out  his  sum 
with  his  cuff,  while  Sally  herself,  roused  from 
a  reverie  just  as  she  was  choosing  a  name  for 
the  first  baby,  blushed  till  her  pretty  face  was 
red  as  scarlet,  and  then  with  a  fluttering  sigh 
resumed  her  task. 

But,  as  Mrs.  Sweeny  correctly  remarked, 
sixty-five  hundred  dollars  don't  grow  on  every 
bush,  and  the  shrubs  are  rare  from  which  but 
half  the  sum  can  be  picked;  and  so  it  hap- 
pened that  five  years  elapsed  before  Andrew 
Bunn,  the  Colonel's  waggish  head-man,  and 
Sally  Blake  had  earned  and  saved  enough  to 
make  it  prudent  for  them  to  marry  each  other, 
to  buy  the  Jim  Sparks  farm,  (which,  sure 
enough,  the  Deacon  by  that  time  had  for  sale), 
and  to  set  up  in  the  world  for  themselves. 
But  the  five  years  came  and  went,  leaving 
crow's  feet  at  the  corners  of  Andrew's  eyes, 
and  tracing  faint  wrinkles  on  Sally's  forehead, 
and  at  last  the  farm  was  bought,  and  half  paid 


TWICE  MARRIED.  41 

for,  and  the  other  half  secured  by  a  mortgage 
back,  and  the  joyful  Thanksgiving-day  arrived, 
to  which,  it  must  be  confessed,  Sally,  subject 
to  the  rigorous  discipline  of  Mrs.  Sweeny's 
household  rule,  had  looked  forward  with 
greater  impatience  than  even  her  lover,  who, 
meanwhile,  as  Colonel  Manners'  head  farm- 
hand, had  been  his  own  master.  They  had  a 
very  nice  wedding  at  Deacon  Sweeny's,  (for 
Sally  was  an  orphan  whom  Mrs.  Sweeny  had 
taken  to  bring  up),  the  expense  of  which 
was  deducted  from  the  sum  due  to  Sally  for 
wages.  It  was  at  this  wedding  that  Lucy — 
who  was  at  home  for  Thanksgiving  week — 
conceived  a  feeling  of  hearty,  active  dislike  for 
her  cousin  Joab,  for  the  reason  only  that  he 
ventured,  upon  this  occasion,  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life,  to  allude  to  the  fact,  well  under- 
stood by  both,  that  they  were  to  marry  each 
other.  "  I  say,  Lucy,"  said  he  in  a  whisper, 
with  a  sheepish  look,  "we'll  have  a  weddin'  of 
our  own  bimeby.  I  guess  by  about  next 
Thanksgivin',  a  year  from  now,  it  '11  be  you 
and  I."  At  this  Lucy  blushed  violently,  and 
then  turned  deadly  pale,  to  the  great  delight 


42  TWICE    MARRIED. 

of  her  aunt  Sweeny,  who  had,  in  fact,  invent- 
ed the  speech,  and  had  been  at  great  pains  in 
encouraging  her  son  to  repeat  it,  and  had 
watched  closely  to  notice  the  effect  produced 
thereby.  That  some  time  in  the  future,  she 
was  to  marry  Joab,  Lucy  had  always  been  told 
and  believed  without  thinking  much  about  it ; 
but  she  had  always  disliked  Joab,  and  this 
unwonted  effort  of  gallantry  on  the  part  of 
her  awkward  cousin,  at  such  a  time,  shocked 
her  like  a  death-warning,  and  served  to  show 
her  very  vividly  how  extremely  distasteful  to 
her  was  the  idea  of  her  intended  fate. 

The  next  day  the  newly-married  pair  took 
up  their  abode  in  a  little  cottage  belonging  to 
the  Colonel,  which  stood  over  against  his  own 
house,  on  the  other  side  of  the  way,  where 
they  were  to  reside  during  the  winter,  until 
the  time  should  come  for  them  to  enter  into 
possesion  of  the  Jim  Sparks  farm 

To  find  a  proper  person  to  fill  the  post  of 
manager  on  his  farm,  which  Andrew  Bunn 
had  so  long  and  so  worthily  occupied,  caused 
Colonel  Manners  a  vast  amount  of  vexation 
and  trouble.  The  homestead  was  a  very  large 


TWICE    MARRIED.  43 

farm;  besides  which  there  were  several  'out- 
land  fields  and  lots,  and  though  he  by  no 
means  neglected  to  superintend  his  business 
when  at  home,  and  sometimes  used  even  to 
labor  with  his  own  hands  at  raking  hay,  mend- 
ing fence,  and  jobs  of  the  like  sort,  the  Colonel 
had  long  before  ceased  to  head  in  person  his 
troop  of  farm-hands,  or  to  exercise  over  their 
operations  that  constant  supervision  which  a 
good  farmer  is  apt  to  consider  essential  to 
profitable  husbandry.  This  position  had  long 
been  filled  by  Andrew,  and  was  soon  to  be- 
come vacant.  Several  candidates  offered  them- 
selves, but  none  were  found  to  suit  the  Colonel, 
who  was,  it  must  be  confessed,  somewhat  fas- 
tidious and  hypercritical,  although  one  of  the 
rejected  missed  obtaining  the  desirable  situa- 
tion by  a  hair's  breadth  only.  "How  do  you 
contrive  about  getting  bean-poles  for  the  gar- 
din?"  asks  the  Colonel  as  a  final  and  test 
question.  "Why,"  replies  the  man,  "afore 
it  comes  time  to  pole  the  beans,  I  send  the 
boys  to  the  swamp,  and  hev  'em  cut,  and 
haul  home  a  load  with  the  waggiu." 

"Very  well;  very  well,"  cries  the  Colonel; 


44  TWICE    MARRIED. 

"that'll  do — good  day!  A  man  that  don't 
know  how  to  provide  bean-poles  for  a  gardin, 
ain't  the  man  to  oversee  my  farm." 

It  was  the  very  morning  when  the  Colonel 
was  again  disappointed  in  the  manner  just 
related,  that  a  letter  was  received  from  John 
Dashleigh's  widow,  who  was  still  living  in 
the  Genesee  country.  Her  father  was  dead, 
and  gone  to  a  better  world,  she  wrote,  and 
having  sold  out  her  interest  in  the  estate  he 
left  behind  him  to  her  brothers,  she  wished 
to  come  and  end  her  days  among  the  scenes 
of  her  earlier  and  happier  life,  at  Walbury, 
where  there  was  no  fever  and  ague,  nor  In- 
dians, nor  wild  beasts,  but  everything  was 
quiet  and  orderly,  and  there  was  a  good  school 
for  her  little  girl,  and  the  stated  preaching  of 
the  Gospel,  and  other  Christian  privileges  for 
herselfj  but  John,  her  oldest  child,  now  a 
full-grown  man  of  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
had  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  emigrate  to 
Ohio,  and  buy  wild  land  there,  and  clear  a 
farm,  and  grow  up  with  the  country,  as  he 
called  it,  a  project  which,  it  was  evident, 
the  widow  herself  regarded  with  apprehension 


TWICE    MARRIED.  45 

and  dislike.  Still,  she  said  that  she  should 
do,  after  all,  as  John  thought  best ;  for,  though 
she  said  it,  that  shouldn't  say  it,  he  was  as 
good  a  son  as  there  was  in  the  world,  and 
for  his  age  his  judgment  was  excellent,  and 
that  she  depended  on  him  for  advice  as  much 
as  she  ever  had  on  his  father;  which,  without 
doubt,  she  did  indeed,  and  more  too,  for  that 
matter,  as  Mrs.  Manners  said  aloud  in  a  paren- 
thesis when  she  read  the  letter  to  her  hus- 
band. And  though  John  was  a  good  scholar, 
(the  widow's  letter  continued),  and  amazingly 
fond  of  reading  and  books,  there  wasn't  a 
better  farmer  in  the  whole  Genesee  country 
for  his  age,  as  all  the  near  neighbors  for  ten 
miles  round — those  who  knew  him  best — had 
been  heard  to  say  time  and  time  again. 

"How  I  should  like  to  see  him,"  quoth 
Mrs.  Manners,  wiping  her  spectacles  and  fold- 
ing up  the  letter  when  she  had  finished  read- 
ing it  aloud.  "What  a  comfort  he  must  be 
to  his  ma.  Jest  think  on't,  husband,  of  his 
looking  so  much  like  his  poor  father,  only 
taller.  What  a  handsome  young  fellow  he 
must  be?" 


46  TWICE    MARRIED. 

"I  don't  believe  much  in  that  Ohio,"  re- 
marked the  Colonel,  shaking  his  head.  "  They 
talk  a  good  deal  on't,  but  it'll  never  be  much 
of  a  place.  It's  too  fur  off." 

"I  do  hope  and  pray  they  wont  make  up 
their  minds  to  go  there;"  added  his  wife. 

"  She'd  get  fever'n-egg  and  Ingins  enough 
out  to  Ohio,"  resumed  the  Colonel,  "  and  bears 
and  painters  too,  I  tell  ye." 

"Massy!  me!"  cried  Mrs.  Manners,  with  a 
little  scream;  "I  wouldn't  go  for  the  world. 
How  fur  off  is  it,  Colonel?" 

"Well;  le's  see,"  replied  the  Colonel,  rub- 
bing his  head ;  which,  by  the  by,  contained 
no  very  clear  idea  concerning  the  territory  in 
question.  "You  see  the  distance  varies  ac- 
cordin'  as  which  way  you  go — some's  nearer 
and  some's  furder." 

"Say  the  nighest  way,"  pursued  Mrs.  Man- 
ners. 

"Well,  I  should  say  mor'n  a  thousand 
mild,"  replied  the  Colonel,  hazarding  a  guess ; 
which  was,  like  most  Yankee  guesses,  as  near 
the  truth  as  the  positive  assertions  of  many 
other  people. 


TWICE    MARRIED.  47 

"Goodness,  gracious!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Man- 
ners, apparently  quite  aghast.  "It's  a  good 
ways  beyond  the  Genesee  country,  then." 

"Law,"  said  the  Colonel,  with  a  knowing 
air,  "the  Genesee  country  ain't  half-way. 
Why,  it's  beyond  the  Alleghany  Mountains." 

The  same  night,  when  this  worthy  couple 
had  retired  to  their  own  room,  the  lady,  for 
a  purpose  of  her  own,  contrived  to  bring  up 
the  subject  of  the  Widow  Dashleigh's  letter, 
and  again,  with  a  shudder,  expressed  her  hor- 
ror at  the  notion  of  her  sister-in-law's  emi- 
gration to  such  a  howling  wilderness  as  Ohio. 
"She's  too  fur  along  in  life  to  think  of  such 
a  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Manners,  "and  for  my 
part,  I  should  suppose  John  would  rather  settle 
in  this  part  of  the  country,  now  his  grand'ther's 
dead,  than  to  go  to  such  a  wild  place." 

"I  expect  the  syle  is  purty  fertile,  though," 
remarked  the  Colonel. 

"No  wonder,  if  they  find  room  to  buiy  all 
them  that  dies  with  the  fever'n-egg,  and  the 
wild  creturs  don't  dig  up  the  corpses,"  said 
his  wife. 

"I    wouldn't    want   to    live    there    myself, 


48  TWICE    MARRIED. 

that's  a  fact.  Ugh!"  exclaimed  the  Colonel, 
shivering  as  he  jumped  into  bed. 

"Why  can't  he  come  and  lay  out  what 
money  they've  got  in  a  farm  here?"  pursued 
Mrs.  Manners.  "If  he's  as  good  a  farmer  as 
Sally  says,  he'd  contrive  to  pay  up  in  a  little 
while,  even  if  he  was  obleged  to  run  in  debt 
some.  There's  Andrew  now,"  she  continued, 
"how  long  will  it  be  before  he'll  be  clear 
of  the  world  and  forehanded?" 

"And  speaking  of  Andrew,"  she  added  pres- 
ently, after  a  pause,  during  which  she  toasted 
her  little  feet  at  the  fire,  put  on  her  nightcap 
and  slily  watched  her  husband's  face,  "what 
on  earth,  Judge,  are  you  going  to  do  for  a 
man  to  take  his  place?" 

"I  dunno,  I'm  sure,"  said  the  Colonel. 
Now,  whenever  Mrs.  Manners  called  her  hus- 
band "Judge,"  to  his  face,  it  was  a  pretty 
sure  sign  that  she  wished  to  make  him  good- 
natured  if  inclined  to  be  a  little  cross,  or  to 
keep  him  in  good  humor  if  already  so.  How- 
beit,  the  Colonel  was  not  aware  of  this,  though 
he  never  failed  to  take  notice  whenever  he 
was  addressed  by  this  title. 


TWICE    MARRIED.  49 

"  The  first  thing  you  know,  it  '11  be  time 
to  go  to  ploughing,"  said  Mrs.  Manners. 

"I  declare,"  cried  the  Colonel,  suddenly 
starting  up  in  bed.  "Betsy,  I  wonder  if 
young  John  Dashleigh  now  wouldn't  be  just 
the  man?" 

"Good  Land!  how  you  skeert  me!"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Manners;  "I  didn't  know  but 
what  you  was  took  in  a  fit  or  something. 
What  was  it  you  said  about  John  Dashleigh?" 

"I  wonder  if  he  wouldn't  be  just  the  feller 
to  come  and  take  Andrew's  place,"  said  the 
Colonel,  lying  down  again. 
,  "Well,  if  I  ever!"  cried  the  lady,  blowing 
out  the  light  and  laughing  to  herself  in  the 
dark.  "What  a  quick  witted  creetur  you  be, 
Judge.  Who'd  ha'  thought  o'  him  now,  but 
you,  when  he's  five  hundred  miles  away,  and 
we  hain't  seen  him  for  I  don't  know  how 
many  years?" 

It  would  be  manifestly  improper  to  relate 
to  the  world  the  conversation  of  this  good 
couple  after  they  were  all  nicely  tucked  up 
for  the  night.  Let  it  suffice  to  say,  that  the 
Colonel  found  no  great  difficulty  in  convincing 


50  TWICE    MARRIED. 

his  wife  that  the  plan  he  had  so  ingeniously 
thought  of  was  a  very  good  one  indeed,  and 
successfully  overthrew  a  few  feeble  objections 
to  it  which  she  started.  It  was  finally  agreed, 
however,  at  her  suggestion,  to  sleep  on  the 
project  over  night.  But  the  next  morning, 
finding  it  all  the  better  for  having  been  slept 
on,  the  Colonel  accordingly  dispatched  a  letter 
to  the  Genesee  country,  proposing  to  the 
Widow  Dashleigh  to  come  forthwith  to  Wai- 
bury,  and  take  up  her  abode  in  the  little 
cottage  over  the  way,  as  soon  as  Andrew  and 
his  wife  should  go  to  their  farm,  and  also 
offering  the  post  of  overseer  and  manager  on 
the  homestead  to  her  son  John. 


CHAPTER    III. 

IT  was  a  warm  and  beautiful  afternoon  in 
the  month  of  March,  that  the  stage-coach  from 
Albany,  which  had  been  delayed  by  the  muddy 
roads  form  any  hours  behind  its  time,  at  last  ar- 
rived and  drew  up  in  front  of  Morgan's  Tavern, 
commonly  called  the  Stage  House,  in  State 
Street,  in  the  ancient  town  of  Hartford. 
Among  the  weary  passengers  that  alighted 
from  it,  were  the  Widow  Dashleigh  and  her 
two  children,  on  their  way  from  the  Genesee 
country  to  their  old  home  in  the  Niptuck 
Valley.  The  Providence  coach,  which  used 
to  pass  within  a  few  miles  of  Walbury,  had 
been  gone  since  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  the  widow,  (who  was  not  very  strong), 
and  her  little  daughter  were  not  sorry  for 
the  opportunity  afforded  them  to  rest  for  the 
remainder  of  the  day  and  night,  before  start- 
ing upon  the  last  stage  of  their  long  and 
weary  journey.  So,  after  a  late  dinner,  the 
two  women  went  to  bed,  to  regain  the  sleep 


52  TWICE    MARRIED. 

of  which  they  had  been  cheated  by  their  night 
stage-ride,  while  John  Dashleigh,  whose  vigor 
had  been  sufficiently  restored  by  a  hearty  meal, 
sought  his  chamber  only  for  the  purpose  of 
arranging  his  disordered  and  travel-stained 
dress,  and  then  sallied  forth  to  have  a  look 
at  the  sights  of  the  city. 

But  except  the  beautiful  ladies — for  whom 
Hartford  was  as  justly  famous  in  those  days 
as  it  is  now — there  was  nothing  in  the  whole 
town  so  well  worth  the  looking  at  as  John 
Dashleigh  himself.  For,  though  it  must  be 
confessed  that  his  apparel,  in  spite  of  the 
pains  he  had  just  bestowed  upon  it,  still  be- 
trayed the  marks  of  wear  and  travel,  as  well 
as  its  origin  in  the  backwoods,  his  form  was 
so  tall,  so  well-shaped  and  so  stately,  that  it 
needed  but  slight  embellishment  by  the  skill 
of  the  tailor.  A  man  who,  like  John  Dash- 
leigh, is  more  than  six  feet  in  height,  and  well- 
proportioned  withal,  need  give  little  thought 
to  the  fashion  of  his  raiment.  Then  John's 
face — though  by  no  means  strictly  handsome 
— was  a  very  pleasant  one  even  for  a  stranger 
to  see,  and  there  was  a  noble,  manly,  and 


TWICE    MARRIED.  53 

yet  gentle  expression  in  his  blue  eyes,  that 
— if  I  were  a  lady — I  should  rather  my  lover 
would   possess  than  the  most  polished  man- 
ners and  address,  or  ever  so  large  an  estate. 
Besides,   there  was   a  merry,  roguish,  good- 
humored  look  about  his  face,  that  lurked  in 
every  feature,  and  which  was  heightened  by 
the  appearance  of  his  curly  brown  hairj  and 
as  he  walked,  he  carried  himself  as  erect  and 
graceful   as   any  Indian   chief.     So   it  is   not 
wonderful  that,  as  he  sauntered  along  the  main 
street,  gazing  curiously  to  the  right  and  left 
at  whatsoever  chanced  to  arrest  his  attention, 
a  great  many  bright   glances  were   directed 
towards   him,   which  John    erred    greatly  in 
suspecting  were  attracted  solely  by  the  odd 
appearance  of  his  coonskin  cap  and  buckskin 
leggins  and  hunting-shirt. 

If  there  had  been  men,  only,  to  encounter, 
our  hero  would  have  cared  little  for  their 
gazing;  but  when  groups  of  ladies,  of  a  beauty 
quite  awful  to  behold,  met  him  and  passed 
by,  rustling  in  their  silken  gowns,  casting 
quick,  sidelong  glances  at  him  from  their 
bright,  flashing  eyes,  and  almost  always  turn- 


54  TWICE    MARRIED. 

ing  their  heads  to  look  after  him,  he  began 
to  be  sorely  dismayed,  though,  doubtless,  if 
he  had  happened  to  overhear  the  remarks  that 
many  of  these  fair  dames  made  to  each  other 
concerning  him,  his  brown  cheeks  would  have 
reddened  with  modesty  and  pleasurable  con- 
fusion, instead  of  diffidence  and  shame;  for 
John,  like  every  other  true  man  and  gallant 
gentleman,  regarded  women  with  the  utmost 
respect  and  reverence,  and  set  a  very  high 
value  upon  their  good  opinion  and  praise. 

At  last,  in  a  by-street,  whither  he  had  fled 
for  refuge  from  curious  eyes,  he  saw  coming 
towards  him  a  little  throng  of  young  women, 
who  were  talking  and  laughing  together,  until 
one  of  them  happening  to  espy  him,  they 
suddenly  became  silent,  and  each  endeavored 
to  assume  an  air  of  decorous  gravity.  John 
heard  them  whispering  together  as  they  cast 
forward  stealthy  looks  of  observation  at  him 
from  beneath  their  downcast  eyelids,  his  ear, 
sharpened  by  suspicion,  caught  the  sound  of 
a  tittering  laugh.  He  was  afraid  that  the 
whole  bevy  of  blooming  young  girls  were 
making  sport  of  his  uncouth  garb  and  rude 


TWICE    MARRIED.  55 

appearance,  and  with  burinng  cheeks  he  an- 
ticipated the  moment  of  meeting  them.  As 
they  approached  still  nearer,  he  raised,  with 
an  effort,  his  bashful  eyes,  and  his  unsteady 
glance  rested  upon  a  single  face  in  the  centre 
of  the  group.  At  once  he  forgot  his  dress, 
he  forgot  his  rustic  looks,  he  forgot  himself; 
nay,  all  the  world  was  forgotten  except  that 
fair  young  face;  and  while  the  train  of  demure 
damsels  tripped  primly  by,  in  becoming  si- 
lence, unbroken  except  by  a  roguish  little 
cough  from  a  slim  young  witch  with  a  gipsy 
hat  and  mischievous  black  eyes,  he  stood,  cap 
in  hand,  in  an  attitude  so  full  of  unstudied 
grace,  and  so  expressive  of  profound  and  re- 
spectful admiration,  that  there  was  not  one 
of  them  all  who  did  not  forgive,  with  all  her 
heart,  the  scandalous  offense  of  a  salute  from 
an  utter  stranger,  notwithstanding  the  reprov- 
ing severity  of  aspect  that  each  one  thought 
it  proper  to  assume. 

As  for  John  Dashleigh,  he  remained  stand- 
ing in  the  same  place,  still  uncovered,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  one  form  in  the  retreating 
group,  until  it  was  eclipsed  by  the  corner  of 


56  TWICE    MARRIED. 

a  house  at  an  angle  of  the  street.  Then  all 
at  once  he  gave  a  little  start,  looked  around 
with  the  manner  of  one  waking  from  a  dream, 
put  his  cap  on  his  head  and  started,  walking 
rapidly,  towards  the  point  at  which  the  young 
women  had  vanished  from  his  sight.  When 
he  reached  the  place,  however,  there  was 
nothing  to  be  seen  of  them.  The  street  around 
the  corner  was  full  of  people,  and  though 
he  looked  in  every  direction,  up  and  down 
the  street  and  upon  both  sides  of  the  way,  he 
failed  to  discover  what  he  so  eagerly  sought; 
and  after  walking  about,  looking  everywhere 
as  he  went,  until  the  sun  was  set  and  the 
shops  began  to  be  lighted,  he  gave  up  the 
quest  and  turned  his  steps  towards  the  inn.. 
There  are  many  very  good  and  sensible 
people,  (if  I  dare  hope  that  such  will  read 
my  story),  who  will,  I  fear,  be  disposed  to 
disbelieve  this  portion  of  it,  or  else  to  set 
down  John  Dashleigh  as  a  very  weak,  silly 
young  fellow,  because  he  suffered  himself  to 
fall  suddenly  and  violently  in  love  with  a  girl 
whom  he  saw  only  for  an  instant,  as  she  was 
passing  him  in  the  street,  and  of  whose  name, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  57 

rank,  and  circumstances,  he  was  utterly  igno- 
rant. I  trust,  however,  that  other  persons, 
of  equal  good  sense  and  greater  experience, 
will  perceive  nothing  incredible  in  what  I 
have  related.  It  is  not  always  a  matter  of 
option  whether  one  will  fall  in  love  or  no. 
The  pure  and  unsophisticated  youthful  heart 
is  sometimes  like  the  tablet  of  the  chemist, 
which,  when  exposed  to  the  presence  of  a 
beautiful  face,  will  instantly  receive  an  im- 
pression as  delicate  as  the  bloom  upon  the 
grape,  but  capable  of  being  rendered  as  inef- 
faceable and  enduring  as  graven  steel  or  sculp- 
tured marble.  And  that  coarse,  rough,  obtuse 
natures  are  not  susceptible  to  this  gentle  influ- 
ence, by  no  means  proves  that  others  are  not 
more  impressible.  For  my  part,  like  Falstaff, 
I  entertam  a  great  respect  for  instinct,  and 
I  firmly  believe,  not  only  that  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  love  at  first  sight,  but  that  such 
a  love,  being  an  instinctive  emotion,  is  a  very 
safe  guide  to  follow  in  the  choice  of  a  hus- 
band or  wife. 

I  once  read  a  touching  story  of  a  poor  fel- 
low, who,  in  his  youth,  while  walking  in  the 


58  TWICE    MARRIED. 

crowded  street  of  a  populous  city,  saw,  for 
the  duration  of  a  single  glance,  the  features 
of  a  beautiful  lady  with  whom  he  at  once 
fell  madly  in  love.  He  turned  to  follow  her, 
but  she  had  mingled  with  the  throng  of  pas- 
sengers and  was  lost  from  his  sight.  And 
though  day  after  day  he  thenceforth  haunted 
the  spot  where  he  had  met  her,  until  weeks 
lengthened  into  months,  and  months  grew  to  be 
years,  he  never  saw  the  lady  again.  His  youth 
was  spent  and  his  manhood's  prime  wasted 
in  the  fruitless  quest,  yet,  when  extreme  old 
age  had  come  upon  him,  he  was  still  accus- 
tomed to  take  his  stand  each  morning,  in  rain 
or  shine,  in  cold  or  heat,  upon  the  long-fre- 
quented spot,  and  carefully  attired  in  the  style 
of  fifty  years  bygone,  to  peer  eagerly  at  the 
faces  of  the  young  and  fair  as  they  passed 
by  him,  still  seeking  among  them  the  original 
of  the  picture  cherished  for  so  many  weary 
years  in  his  faithful,  constant  heart;  sighing 
heavily  at  each  new  disappointment,  and  press- 
ing his  feeble  palms  together  with  a  gesture 
of  subdued  impatience. 

I  repeat  this  story,  not  because  I  think  John 


TWICE    MARRIED.  59 

Dashleigh  ever  would  or  could  have  been 
guilty  of  a  folly  like  that  of  this  poor  heart- 
blighted  creature.  Indeed,  as  we  shall  pres- 
ently see,  he  turned  his  back  upon  Hartford, 
and  went  on  his  way  towards  Walbury  the 
veiy  next  morning  after  his  meeting  with  the 
beautiful  unknown  young  lady,  without  hav- 
ing, in  the  mean  time,  seen  her  again,  or  ob- 
tained the  least  clue  by  which  he  might  trace 
out  her  identity.  But  my  purpose  is  to  show, 
by  a  well  authenticated  instance,  that  an  en- 
during love,  evidenced  by  unequaled  devotion 
and  fidelity,  may  be  kindled  by  a  single  glance. 
I  am  not  able  to  tell,  (I  must  confess,)  with 
any  more  certainty  than  the  most  sensible 
and  matter-of-fact  person  in  the  world,  what 
would  have  been  the  effect  upon  John  Dash- 
leigh's  future  life,  if  he  had  never  beheld  the 
beautiful  unknown  again.  I  think,  however, 
that  he  himself  came  very  near  the  truth,  as 
he  sat  upon  the  coach-box,  with  the  driver, 
the  next  morning,  thinking  soberly  of  this 
very  matter,  and  at  the  same  time  looking 
back  towards  the  steeples  of  Hartford,  piercing 
through  the  mist  that  had  risen  from  the 


60  TWICE    MARRIED. 

river,  and  catching  on  their  sharp  pinnacles 
the  first  ruddy  gleams  of  the  early  dawn. 
"The  chances  are,"  said  John  to  himself, 
"that  I  shall  never  see  her  again;"  and  with 
this  he  felt  a  twinge  of  the  heart-ache,  which 
it  required  all  his  fortitude  to  endure  and  to 
conceal;  "and  even  if  I  should,"  he  con- 
tinued, still  to  himself,  "a  beautiful,  delicate 
creature  like  this,  some  very  rich  man's  daugh- 
ter, probably,  would  be  so  far  above  me,  that 
I  could  never  hope  to  win  her.  I  know  that 
I  could  love  her  as  I  can  never  love  any  one 
else,  but  I  must  not  let  myself  love,  though 
I  never  can  forget  her.  We  shall  never  be 
to  each  other  more  than  two  fellow-mortals, 
living  separate  and  apart  in  the  world,  and 
unknown  to  each  other.  But  she  is  the  very 
one  of  whom  I've  dreamed  sometimes.  In- 
deed, it  seems  as  if  I  must  have  seen  her 
before;  but  that  can't  be.  I  know  I  never 
have,  and  yet  there's  a  look  about  her,  that 
she  gave  me  for  a  single  instant,  which  seemed 
as  familiar  as  my  mother's  smile.  And  how 
handsome  she  was !  how  perfectly  lovely !  If 
I  could  have  all  the  women  in  the  world  to 


TWICE    MARRIED.  61 

choose  a  wife  from,  I  know,  though  I've  had 
but  one  look  at  her,  that  she's  the  one  I'd 
pick  out.  But  it  never  can  be.  It's  a  great 
misfortune  to  me  too;  for  though  I  may  be 
happy  without  her — working  for  mother  and 
Ellen  and  trying  to  make  them  happy — yet 
I'm  sure  I  can  never  be  so  completely,  per- 
fectly happy  as  I  might  have  been,  if  fate 
had  ordered  it  otherwise.  However,  it's  a 
man's  duty  to  bear  the  misfortunes  that  fall 
to  his  lot,  and  it  would  be  folly  to  fret  and 
repine  at  this,  when  it  isn't  going  to  change 
anything  or  do  the  least  good." 

Having  come  to  this  wise  conclusion,  our 
hero  gave  a  fluttering,  sobbing  sigh  of  intense 
regret,  that  seemed  to  come  from  the  very 
bottom  of  ]jjp  heart,  and  which  he  was  fain 
to  disguise  by  a  shiver,  as  if  he  were  a-cold ; 
and  then,  buttoning  his  coarse  blanket  over- 
coat closely  to  his  throat,  he  rubbed  his  hands, 
settled  himself  in  his  seat,  and  tried  to  look 
forward  at  the  road,  and  at  the  future  before 
him,  with  a  cheerful  face  and  spirit.  Never- 
theless, there  was  perceptible  to  his  mental 

vision  a  rose-tint  in  the  dull,  gray  canopy  of 
6 


62  TWICE    MARRIED. 

mist  that  overhung  the  distant  city,  that  he 
failed  to  discern  among  the  resplendent  hues 
of  dawn  with  which  the  eastern  sky  was  all 
aglow. 

I  heartily  despise  all  claptrap,  especially  of 
that  sort  which  can  be  easily  detected  and 
seen  through,  and  the  reader  will  bear  me 
witness  that  the  purpose  for  which  the  narra- 
tive set  forth  in  the  present  chapter  has  been 
related,  was  formally  and  frankly  avowed  at 
the  very  beginning.  I  hope,  therefore,  that 
I  shall  not  be  unjustly  suspected  of  a  shallow 
attempt  to  surprise  the  reader  by  what  is 
to  appear  in  the  conclusion. 

Some  six  weeks  had  elapsed  since  the  arri- 
val of  the  widow  Dashleigh  and  her  children 
at  Walbury.  In  the  mean  time,^.ndrew  and 
his  rejoicing  helpmeet  had  entered  and  pos- 
sessed themselves  of  that  promised  land  from 
which  the  unfortunate  Canaanite,  Jim  Sparks, 
had  been  ejected,  and  the  widow  had  been 
established  in  the  little  cottage  over  the  way. 
John  had  sustained,  in  a  most  satisfactory 
manner,  an  examination  touching  his  qualifica- 
tions as  a  farmer,  and  had  been  duly  installed 


TWICE    MARRIED.  63 

into  office  as  the  headman  and  overseer  upon 
the  farm.  His  method  of  providing  bean-poles 
for  the  kitchen  garden — Toy  saving  suitable 
sticks  for  that  purpose  from  the  woodpile, 
and  laying  them  by,  from  time  to  time,  as 
they  came  to  hand  during  the  course  of  chop- 
ping the  supply  of  fuel  for  the  summer's  fire 
— was  found  to  be  in  accordance  with  the 
Colonel's  own  thrifty  custom.  The  stained 
snow-banks  remaining  on  the  shady  side  of 
stone  walls  and  fences,  had  dwindled  day  by 
day  in  the  sun,  and  had  finally  vanished  from 
the  sight.  The  Niptuck  had  celebrated  its 
emancipation  from  the  stern  and  icy  bonds 
of  winter,  by  a  saturnalian  freshet,  and  then 
returned  quietly  to  its  accustomed  channel. 
Where  the  shallow  pools,  left  in  the  hollows 
by  the  retiring  flood,  had  shrunk  and  dried 
away,  the  springing  herbage  had  grown  more 
rapidly  than  elsewhere ;  though  over  all  the 
surface  of  the  intervale  meadows,  the  grass  had 
spread  its  mantle  of  brilliant  green,  spangled 
with  dandelions  and  early  wild  flowers.  The 
drooping  willows  on  the  river  banks  had  put 
forth,  first  of  all  the  trees,  their  slender,  sil- 


04  TWICE    MARRIED. 

very  leaves,  and  strewn  the  ground  beneath 
them  with  down  as  light  as  gossamer.  The 
alders  and  osiers  had  hung  out  their  tasseled 
catkins,  and  the  birchen  woods,  first  attiring 
their  white  limbs  in  the  rusty-looking  suits 
of  ruddy  swelling  buds  with  which  they  are 
wont  to  be  clothed  in  the  early  spring,  had 
suddenly  changed  them  for  a  more  comely 
apparel,  composed  of  tender,  glossy  green 
leaves,  that,  for  ever  quivering,  even  in  the 
faintest  breeze,  reveal  their  delicate  silver 
linings  to  the  sun.  In  the  moist  lowlands, 
and  by  the  brooksides,  the  woolly-headed  polly- 
pods  had  feathered  out  into  fragrant  brakes, 
and  the  bright-eyed  blossoms  of  the  cowslip 
shone  out  like  stars  from  among  its  dark  green 
leaves.  The  frogs,  awakened  from  their  long 
winter's  slumber,  had  at  first  tried  their  voices 
each  for  himself,  croaking  hoarsely,  and  start- 
ling the  lonely  traveler  at  night,  with  strange, 
uncouth,  guttural  noises,  and  fearful  mutter- 
ings;  but  now  they  had  learned  once  more 
to  sing  in  chorus,  and  filled  the  misty  evening 
air  with  shrill  and  piercing  cries,  that  smote 
upon  the  ear  like  the  confused  jangling  of 


TWICE    MARRIED.  65 

millions  of  sharp-toned  sleigh-bells.  The  white 
blossoms  of  the  swamp-willow  had  given  the 
welcome  token  of  the  approach  and  advent 
of  that  mighty  host  of  fat  and  luscious  shad, 
which  annually  invades  the  coasts  and  rivers 
of  Connecticut,  and  leave  the  bones  of  myriads 
of  their  number  upon  the  trenchers  of  the 
people  of  the  land.  The  fattening  calves  were 
left  the  sole  tenants  of  the  deserted  stables, 
while  their  mammas,  the  kine,  went  forth 
once  more  to  revisit  their  summer  pastures 
in  the  huckleberry  swamps  and  on  the  hill- 
sides, and  their  uncles,  the  patient  oxen,  with 
lolling  tongues,  toiled  in  the  fields  hard  by. 
The  hollow  spaces  of  the  empty  barns  re- 
sounded all  the  mornings  with  clamorous  cack- 
lings  of  triumphant  pullets,  and  in  snug  cor- 
ners of  the  mangers,  and  sly  nooks  and  bur- 
rowings  in  the  shrunken  hay-mow,  the  setting 
hens  brooded  upon  their  hoards  of  eggs,  and 
winked  and  dozed  in  quiet  through  the  period 
of  incubation,  secure  from  all  disturbance. 
The  governor  and  council  and  the  representa- 
tives of  the  people  of  Connecticut,  in  general 


66  TWICE    MARRIED. 

court  assembled,  had  convened  at  Hartford 
for  the  purpose  of  devouring  dragon  oysters 
and  fresh  shad,  and  enacting  laws  for  the 
public  weal.  Colonel  Manners,  having  signi- 
fied his  will  to  continue  in  the  service  of  the 
State,  to  his  fellows  of  the  little  clique  of 
village  magnates  that  controlled  the  political 
affairs  of  the  town,  and  having  been,  of  course, 
elected,  as  usual,  one  of  the  members  for  the 
ancient  town  of  Walbury,  had  gone  up  with 
his  wife,  in  a  one-horse  chaise,  to  the  capital, 
from  whence,  at  the  end  of  the  election  week, 
Mrs.  Manners  intended  to  return  home,  bring- 
ing with  her  Lucy,  her  daughter ;  that  young 
lady  having  finished  her  education  at  the 
Misses  Primber's  seminary,  and  drank  to  the 
very  dregs  of  that  celebrated  fountain  of  useful 
knowledge.  In  a  word,  it  was  a  warm,  bright, 
sunshiny  day  near  the  middle  of  the  delightful 
month  of  May,  and  John  Dashleigh  and  his 
mother,  who  had  been  left  joint  regents  of 
the  Manners'  homestead,  were  awaiting  the 
return  of  the  mistress  and  heiress  apparent 
of  the  little  realm. 


TWICE    MARRIED.  67 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
when  John — who  was  at  work  pruning  in  the 
top  of  the  great  pear-tree  which  stood  by  the 
garden  gate,  across  the  lane  from  the  south 
porch — saw  in  the  distance  the  hood-top  of  a 
carriage,  which  was  coming  up  to  the  further 
side  of  the  little  hill  in  the  Hartford  road.  Pres- 
ently a  horse's  head  bobbed  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  path,  and  at  length  both  horse  and  car- 
riage came  into  full  view,  upon  the  summit  of 
the  acclivity,  and  proved  to  be  Old  Bob  and 
the  expected  chaise.  The  vehicle  contained 
two  ladies,  as  John  could  plainly  see.  So,  ac- 
cording to  previous  arrangement,  he  called 
to  his  mother,  who  sat  knitting  in  the  porch, 
to  tell  her  that  the  chaise  was  in  sight  and  to 
put  the  tea-kettle  over,  and  then  prepared  to 
descend  from  his  perch.  But  while  he  was 
putting  his  tools  into  the  basket,  and  lowering 
it  to  the  ground  by  means  of  a  cord  attached 
to  its  handle,  the  chaise  had  reached  the  mouth 
of  the  lane.  As  Old  Bob  came  trotting  briskly 
up  the  drive  towards  the  house,  John  glanced 
downwards  with  eager  curiosity  to  catch  a 


68  TWICE    MARRIED. 

sight  of  his  old  play-fellow  and  cousin  Lucy, 
and  came  within  an  ace  of  tumbling  headlong 
after  his  tool-basket,  when  he  beheld,  seated  by 
the  side  of  his  aunt  Betsy,  the  charming  young 
girl  wb'/m  he  had  seen  in  the  street  at  Hart- 
ford! 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE  chaise  stopped  at  the  stepping-stones  of 
the  south  porch,  and  in  a  twinkling,  Lucy 
Manners,  (for  she  it  was  that  sat  with  Mrs. 
Manners,)  jumped  out  with  one  bound,  not 
minding  the  steps  at  all,  and,  running  up  to  the 
widow  Dashleigh,  who  stood  in  the  porch,  with 
little  Ellen  standing  bashfully  almost  behind 
her,  she  embraced  them  both  with  great  ardor, 
kissing  them  two  or  three  times  apiece,  and  cry- 
ing out  that  she  knew  they  were  her  dear  aunt 
Polly,  and  her  darling  little  cousin  Nelly,  and 
then  she  stooped  and  hugged  Boatswain,  the 
big  watch-dog,  about  his  neck,  and,  I  believe, 
kissed  him  too.  After  that  she  stamped  her 
pretty  feet  several  times,  and  shook  the  dust 
from  her  skirts,  holding  them  out  wide-spread 
in  front,  and  slightly  stooping,  looked  first  at 
the  toe  of  one  of  her  slim  gaiter  boots,  and  then 
at  the  other,  as  she  raised  them  alternately 
displaying  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  her  taper 
ankles ;  and  finally,  this  position  being,  I  sup- 


t 

70  TWICE    MARRIED. 

pose,  suggestive  of  dancing,  she  took  two  or 
three  steps  on  the  porch  floor,  and  declared,  to 
the  air  of  the  Soldier's  Joy,  that  she  was  never 
so  happy  before  in  all  the  days  of  her  life,  and 
that,  during  the  remainder  of  her  existence  upon 
this  planet,  she  intended  to  do  just  as  she  pleased, 
and  never  to  look  in  any  book  whatsoever,  unless 
it  should  be  a  romance  or  book  of  poems ;  and 
in.  conclusion  she  appealed  to  the  dog  to  say 
whether  he  would  not  himself  be  of  like  mind 
under  similar  circumstances  ;  whereto  Bose 
straightway  replied  with  three  short,  emphatic, 
affirmative  barks,  and  signified  his  hearty  ap- 
proval of  his  young  mistress'  opinions  by  thump- 
ing applause  on  the  door-step  with  his  tail. 

Meanwhile  John,  recovering  from  a  stupor  of 
astonishment  and  delight,  had  been  peeping, 
through  the  lofty  covert  of  leaves  and  blossoms 
in  which  he  was  hidden,  at  Lucy's  graceful 
frolics  and  vivacious  extravagances.  He  did 
not  fail  to  mark  the  elegance  of  her  figure,  and 
took  especial  note  of  the  tapering  symmetry  of 
her  ankles.  The  tones  of  her  voice,  singing, 
laughing,  and  talking,  all  in  a  breath,  seemed 
to  his  enraptured  ears  far  sweeter  music  than 


TWICE    MARRIED.  71 

the  melodious  thrills  and  quavers  of  a  bob-a- 
link,  warbling  in  the  meadow  hard  by  ;  and 

her  face if  it  had  appeared  lovely  when 

he  had  seen  it  six  weeks  before  in  Hartford, 
with  every  feature  striving  to  assume  as  prim 
and  demure  an  expression  as  might  be,  now 
that  it  was  all  aglow  with  delight,  pleasure, 
and  excitement,  it  was  so  bewilderingly  beau- 
tiful that  it  fairly  dazzled  him  !  Heavens ! 
what  a  change  had  come  to  pass  within  the 
last  few  minutes.  It  was  less  than  an  hour 
since,  in  spite  of  himself,  he  had  been  thinking 
pensively  of  the  beautiful  unknown,  wondering 
who  and  where  she  might  be,  and  what  she 
might  then  happen  to  be  doing  or  saying,  and 
then,  rousing  from  a  reverie,  murmuring  to 
himself  that  he  must  forget  her,  and  there  was 
no  use  in  being  a  fool ;  that  she  was  far  above 
him,  moving  in  a  higher  and  distant  sphere, 
and  that  he  should  never  see  her  again  in  the 
world ;  but  that,  of  course,  some  time  she  would 
marry  some  rich  and  splendid  nobleman;  at 
which  last-mentioned  fancy,  his  heart,  in  spite 
of  himself,  would  seem  to  die  within  him,  poor 
fellow,  and  a  great  lump  would  rise  in  his 


72  TWICE    MARRIED. 

throat  that  couldn't  well  be  swallowed  again 
without  tears  to  moisten  it — and  now — why  ! 
here  she  was,  his  own  cousin,  Lucy  Manners, 
with  whom,  when  they  were  both  little  chil- 
dren, he  had  played  a  thousand  times  j  who 
had  written  home  from  Hartford  that  she  re- 
membered cousin  John  Dashleigh,  and  about 
his  going  away,  and  had  sent  him  her  love 
and  a  kiss  for  the  sake  of  old  times !  His  heart 
leaped  to  his  throat,  as  after  five  minutes'  effort 
he  fairly  comprehended  the  truth  and  its  ex- 
tent, and  possible  consequences.  What  a  plea- 
sant world  it  was !  he  thought.  How  bright 
seemed  the  future  that  but  just  now  had  ap- 
peared so  dreary !  Though  the  limb  of  the 
pear-tree  on  which  John  sat  wTas  less  than  a 
score  of  feet  above  the  earth,  he  seemed  to  be 
more  than  half  way  to  heaven !  Now,  the 
reason  was  apparent  why  it  was  that  he 
had  been  so  suddenly  and  irresistibly  attracted 
by  the  sweet  face  of  his  cousin,  and  why  her 
image  had  seemed  so  strangely  familiar  to  him, 
that  he  had  been  used  to  wonder  whether  it 
were  not  true,  that,  in  some  previous  state  of 
existence,  the  soul  of  the  beautiful  stranger  and 


TWICE    MARRIED.  73 

his  own  spirit  had  known  and  dearly  loved  each 
other. 

"But  where  on  earth's  John!"  at  length 
asked  Mrs.  Manners,  looking  about  her.  "  I 
expected  he'd  be  the  first  one  to  meet  us,  and 
somebody  ought  to  untackle  Old  Bob,  and  turn 
him  into  the  pastur." 

"  To  be  sure,"  cried  Lucy,  who  had  been 
kissing  Susan  Peet,  the  kitchen  help,  a  former 
class-mate  of  hers  at  the  district  school.  "  Sure 
enough,  where  is  cousin  John  ?  I  long  to  kiss 
him!" 

Gracious  Goodness !  How  John,  in  the  top 
of  the  pear-tree,  blushed,  till  the  white  blos- 
soms nearest  to  his  face  turned  rosy  red  in  the 
reflection. 

"  Why  !"  said  the  widow,  "I  wonder  where 
he's  gone  to !  He  knows  you're  come,  for  he 
was  in  the  garden  just  now,  and  hallooed  to  me 
that  you  had  come  in  sight." 

"  In  the  garden  ?  Let's  go  and  find  him," 
cried  Lucy,  putting  her  arm  round  Ellen's 
waist. 

As  the  two  girls  came  running  across  the 
lane  towards  the  garden  gate,  John  once  more 


74  TWICE    MARRIED. 

prepared  to  descend,  but  in  so  doing  he  did  not 
have  the  luck  of  Zaccheus  of  old ;  for,  placing 
his  hand  upon  a  branch  of  the  tree,  by  which 
to  swing  himself  down,  he  happened  to  clasp, 
not  only  the  branch  itself,  but  also  a  blossom 
containing  a  wasp.  The  insect,  feeling  the 
fatal  pressure  had  time,  before  it  was  crushed 
to  death,  to  dart  its  venomous  sting ;  at  which 
John,  with  an  involuntary  cry  of  pain,  unloos- 
ened his  grasp,  and  the  slight  twig  by  which 
he  held  with  his  other  hand  not  being  able  to 
bear  his  weight,  down  he  came  through  the 
cracking  branches,  plump  upon  the  greensward 
at  Lucy's  feet,  just  as  she  opened  the  garden 
wicket!  Lucy  screamed,  as  well  she  might, 
for  it's  a  somewhat  startling  thing  for  a  young 
maiden  to  behold  a  strange  man,  of  twelve 
stone  weight,  drop  into  her  path  from  the  clouds. 
Ellen,  though  sorely  scared,  hastened  to  assist 
her  prostrate  brother,  as  soon  as  ever  he  came 
to  the  ground,  while  Boatswain,  who  evidently 
jumped  at  once  to  the  conclusion  that  John 
Dashleigh  was  some  wild  beast,  like  a  panther 
— to  his  shame  be  it  spoken — put  his  tail  be- 
tween his  legs,  yelped,  and  fled  amain.  The 


TWICE    MARRIED.  75 

three  women  in  the  porch  uttered  loud  exclama- 
tions of  alarm,  and  Old  Bob,  frightened  out  of 
his  wonted  propriety,  by  the  loud  snapping  and 
rustling  of  the  breaking  boughs  and  the  uproar 
that  followed,  started  and  ran  into  the  back 
yard,  where,  after  a  circuit  about  the  well,  he 
finally  brought  up  against  the  leach-hogshead 
and  overset  the  chaise  upon  the  wood-pile. 
And  all  these  terrors  and  mishaps  were  caused 
by  the  tiny  sting  of  an  insignificant  little  wasp, 
not  half  so  large  as  the  point  of  the  finest 
cambric  needle,  just  as  it  often  happens 
that  the  >liiii  and  supple  tongue  of  some 
gossiping  old  maid  wrill  set  a  neighborhood  by 
the  ears,  a»  1  create  commotions,  heart-burn- 
ings, and  disturbances,  throughout  a  whole 
village. 

John,  though  a  little  shaken  by  his  fall,  was 
not  otherwise  injured,  and,  indeed,  was  far  more 
alai  (1  at  the  terror  depicted  in  Lucy's  pale 
face  than  he  had  been  at  the  accident  which 
can  ><''!  it.  He  feared  that  she  was  going  to 
faint,  and  bounding  up  from  the  ground,  and 
putting  Ellen  aside  hastily,  he  ran  to  his  cousin 
as  she  was  tottering  towards  the  fence,  clasped 


76  TWICE  MARRIED. 

her  round  the  waist,  and  cried  out  lustily  for 
somebody  to  bring  water. 

"Why — who — who  are  you?"  cried  Lucy, 
struggling  a  little.  "  It's  John,  Lucyj"  said 
Ellen.  "  He  won't  hurt  you."  "  Oh-ho  !" 
cried  Lucy,  as  naturally  as  could  be,  which 
John  took  to  be  an  expression  of  pain  or  faint- 
ness.  "  Get  some  water,  Ellen,"  said  he. 
"No,  no;  cousin  John,"  cried  Lucy,  shaking 
her  curls,  "  I  don't  need  any  water — and — and 
— let  me  go,  sir — or — why  don't  you  kiss  me, 
cousin  John  ?" 

It  was  no  mere  cousinly  kiss  that  John,  not 
having  time  to  grow  bashful,  at  once  pressed 
upon  Lucy's  saucy  lips ;  and  though  she  had 
never  been  kissed  in  that  fervent  manner  be- 
fore, she  felt  instinctively  that  it  was  the  pas- 
sion of  a  lover  which  made  that  first  kiss  such 
a  long,  ardent,  clinging  caress.  She  struggled 
feebly,  and  though  she  had  been  pale  a  minute 
before,  she  was  rosy  enough  I  warrant  you, 
when,  as  John  released  her,  she  looked  into 
his  glittering  eyes,  and  recognised  the  hand- 
some face  of  the  tall  young  backwoodsman 
that  she  had  seen  in  the  street  at  Hartford, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  77 

whom  the  other  girls  had  thought  so  good- 
looking,  and  talked  about  so  much,  calling  him 
by  various  names  and  titles,  as  "  Robin  Hood," 
and  "The  Handsome  Forester,"  and  who — she 
had  guessed  at  the  time — had  been  so  smitten 
by  her  beauty. 

I  don't  know  but  that  John  would  have  kept 
on  kissing  his  pretty  cousin  until  this  time,  if 
it  had  not  been  for  the  remonstrances  of  Ellen, 
who  protested,  with  great  vivacity,  against  the 
prolonged  duration  of  the  salute.  As  for  Lucy 
herself,  I  must  confess  that  she  did  not  offer  a 
word  by  way  of  rebuke  or  expostulation,  for 
the  reason — as  she  afterwards  privately  explain- 
ed to  Ellen  and  Susan — that  she  could  not  get 
breath  to  do  so :  the  which  still  further  illus- 
trates the  length  and  vehemence  of  John  Dash- 
leigh's  kiss.  But  just  as  he  came  to  his  senses 
again,  his  mother,  Mrs.  Manners,  and  Susan  ar- 
rived, all  together,  at  the  garden  gate,  bringing, 
the  one  a  camphor  bottle,  another  a  vial  of 
hartshorn,  and  the  third  a  basin  of  water.  The 
three  were  accompanied  by  Boatswain,  who 
had  perceived  from  afar  John's  assault  upon 
the  person  of  Lucy,  and  who  immediately  laid 


78  TWICE    MARRIED. 

hold  of  the  hinder  portion  of  the  offender's  pan- 
taloons, and  tugged  away  with  great  apparent 
fierceness,  no  doubt  hoping  thereby  to  retrieve 
his  reputation  for  fidelity  and  courage,  which 
had,  to  be  sure,  suffered  greatly  by  his  recent 
sudden  retreat. 

"  Who's  hurt  ?"  cried  Mrs.  Manners,  looking 
about  her. 

"  Get  out,  Bose !"  said  Susan,  observing 
John's  inattention  to  the  attack  in  his  rear. 
"Law!  kick  him,  John  !  he'll  tear  your  irow- 
ses  all  to  rags  !" 

Poor  widow  Dashleigh  glanced  at  the  flushed 
faces  of  her  son  and  niece,  and  felt  ready  to 
sink  into  the  ground ;  fearing  that  John  might 
have  offended  the  heiress  by  the  strange  rude- 
ness of  which  she  had  witnessed  a  part.  "For 
shame,  John !"  said  she;  "you  musn't  think 
young  ladies  in  New  England  like  to  be  kissed 
and  touzled  about  like  the  backwoods  girls  at  a 
huskin' !" 

"  Pooh!  pooh  !  Polly  ;"  cried  Mrs.  Manners, 
corking  up  the  camphor  bottle  again,  and  smiling 
with  a  shrewd  expression  ;  "  girls  are  very  much 
the  same  wherever  you  find  'em.  Besides,  John 


TWICE  MARRIED.  79 

and  Lucy  are  cousins,  and  hain't  seen   each 
other  since  they  were  children." 

"  That's  true,"  said  the  widow,  much  re- 
lieved. 

"  Kiss  her  again,  John !"  said  Mrs.  Man- 
ners. 

"  Thank  you,  no  :"  cried  Lucy,  stepping 
back. 

"  Come,  sister  Polly,"  said  Mrs.  Manners, 
with  the  same  shrewd  smile.  "  There's  been 
more  scare  than  harm  done,  I  guess.  Let's 
leave  'em  to  make  up,  and  do  you,  John,  as 
soon  as  you  can,  come  and  look  after  old  Bob 
and  the  shay." 

"  Massy  sakes !"  cried  Susan,  when  the  two 
elder  ladies  had  departed.  "  I  expected  to  find 
somebody  e'enamost  dead." 

"Humph!  I  am  nearly  smothered!"  said 
Lucy,  pouting,  and  arranging  her  disordered 
collar  and  bonnet.  "  You  must  have  learned 
to  kiss  from  the  bears  and  Indians  in  the  Gene- 
see  country,  cousin  John.  Indeed,  sir,  I  never 
saw  such  a  rude  fellow." 

At  this  speech,  and  the  look  of  feigned  dis- 
pleasure which  accompanied  it,  John,  who, 


80  TWICE  MARRIED. 

whatever  he  might  have  been  taught  in  the 
Genesee  country  with  respect  to  the  manner 
of  kissing,  had  had  but  few  opportunities  to 
learn  there  all  the  ways  of  women ;  John,  I 
say,  was  so  extremely  disconcerted,  and  dis- 
comfited, and  experienced  such  shame  and 
distress,  that  his  countenance,  which  was 
always  a  truthful  index  of  his  thoughts,  be- 
trayed plainly  the  anguish  of  his  soul ;  so 
that  Lucy  could  not  help  feeling  a  violent  pity 
for  him. 

"  Well,  well,  cousin  John,"  said  she,  in  the 
kindest  tone,  and  smiling  as  she  extended  her 
hand ;  "  there's  no  harm  done,  after  all,  unless 
you've  broken  your  neck  tumbling  out  of  the 
pear-tree." 

John  humbly  took  the  little  white  hand  that 
was  held  out  to  him,  and  shook  it  awkwardly 
but  did  not  dare  to  kiss  it,  as  Lucy  supposed 
he  would.  Indeed,  it  didn't  come  into  his 
head  to  do  so,  for  he  had  been  taught,  with  re- 
spect to  the  matter  of  kissing,  to  proceed  at 
once  to  the  cheeks  and  lips,  according  to  the 
rude  fashion  prevailing  at  that  time  in  the 
Genesee  country.  However,  Lucy,  the  little 


TWICE  MAKRIED.  81 

witch,  knew  as  well  as  that  she  was  a  beauty, 
that  her  tall,  well-favored  cousin  was  her  lover 
and,  as  big  as  he  was,  the  slave  of  her  merest 
whim  and  caprice.  Even  gentle  little  Ellen, 
standing  by,  wonderingly  guessed  the  truth, 
and  blushed  at  her  thoughts ;  while  Susan  Peet, 
whose  suspicions,  new-born  as  they  were,  had 
suddenly  matured  into  firm  convictions,  smiled, 
mischievously ;  though,  at  the  same  time,  she 
smothered  a  faint  pang  of  regret  at  the  destruc- 
tion of  a  vague  hope,  which,  till  then,  she  had 
not  discovered  was  alive  in  her  heart.  "  I  ain't 
wanted  no  more,"  said  she,  rather  plaintively ; 
"  so  I'll  go,  I  believe.  But,  John,"  she  added, 
as  she  opened  the  garden  gate,  "  you'd  better 
come  pretty  soon,  for  Old  Bob's  tipped  the 
shay  over  onto  the  wood-pile,  and  upsot  it,  and 
Miss  Manners  and  Miss  Dashleigh  are  tryin'  to 
onhitch  hi  .:." 

At  hearing  of  this  disaster,  John  hastily  in- 
quired of  his  cousin  whether  she  felt  strong 
enough  to  walk  to  the  house  with  Ellen's  as- 
sistance ;  and  upon  being  assured  by  Lucy  of 
her  ability  to  walk  without  any  aid  whatever, 
he  repaired  to  the  back-yard,  where  he  found  his 


82  TWICE  MARRIED. 

mother,  Mrs.  Manners,  and  Susan,  endeavoring 
to  extricate  Old  Bob  from  the  shafts  of  the  un- 
fortunate chaise,  which  lay  on  its  beam  ends 
upon  the  wood-pile.  The  performance  of  this 
task  he  forthwith  took  upon  himself,  and  the 
women  retired  into  the  house.  Having  unhar- 
nessed the  horse  and  turned  him  into  the  lane 
to  roll,  righted  the  chaise  and  run  it  under 
the  shed,  he  unstrapped  Lucy's  trunk  and  car- 
ried it  into  the  hall;  though,  by  this  time,  his 
hand  began  to  smart  and  swell.  However, 
when  he  saw  Lucy's  face  in  a  halo  of  bright 
curls,  as  she  stooped  over  the  banisters  of  the 
staircase,  and  heard  her  thank  him  for  a  dear, 
good,  cousin  John,  and  ask  if  he  wouldn't  please 
bring  the  trunk  up  into  her  room,  he  forgot  all 
about  the  pain,  and  rejecting  Susan's  proffers 
of  assistance,  he  mounted  the  stairs  with  his 
burden,  which  he  would  have  set  down  at  the 
door  of  Lucy's  room ;  for  he  was  too  modest  to 
enter  that  sacred  apartment  without  further  in- 
vitation ;  but  Lucy  came  and  held  open  the 
door,  smiling  so  pleasantly  all  the  while,  and 
so  he  passed  in  by  her,  and  finally,  at  her  di- 
rection, placed  the  trunk  at  the  foot  of  the 


TWICE    MARRIED.  83 

little  white  bed.  Then  he  took  off  his  hat  and 
went  out,  on  tiptoe,  without  saying  a  word, 
for  there  was  an  atmosphere  of  purity  and  in- 
nocence in  the  place  that  it  seemed  to  him 
\vould  be  disturbed  by  the  sound  of  his  voice. 
When  he  got  down  into  the  kitchen  again, 
Susan  bathed  his  hands  in  hartshorn,  and  told 
him  to  hurry  and  get  ready  for  tea.  So  he 
went  over  to  his  mother's  house  across  the  way, 
washed  his  face  and  hands,  combed  his  hair, 
and  put  on  his  coat,  and  then  returned  to  the 
big  house,  where,  as  soon  as  he  made  his  ap- 
pearance, everybody  sat  down  to  the  tea-table, 
and  fell  a-talking  of  old  times,  and  how  he  and 
Lucy  and  Ellen  had  grown. 

During  this  time  his  thoughts  were  in  such  a 
state  of  confusion  that  it  would  be  difficult  to 
give  any  account  of  them,  except  that,  it  is  safe 
to  say,  his  cousin  Lucy  was  never  once  out  of 
his  mind.  And  when  he  found  himself  sitting 
at  the  table  right  opposite  to  her,  I  verily  be- 
lieve that,  if  the  liquid  in  his  cup  had  been  a 
strong  decoction  of  mayweed  and  thorough  wort, 
sweetened  with  molasses,  instead  of  being,  as 
in  fact  it  was,  an  infusion  of  fragrant  young 


84  TWICE    MARRIED. 

hyson,  mingled  with  rich  cream  and  with  a 
lump  of  loaf  sugar  dissolved  in  it,  John  would 
never  have  perceived  the  difference ;  albeit, 
herb-drink,  from  his  boyhood,  had  been  a 
beverage  most  distasteful  to  his  palate. 

"  Cecil,  a  coxcomb,"  I  think  it  was  who  was 
cured  of  his  fancy  for  a  handsome  German 
lady,  by  beholding  her  devour  sour-krout,  car- 
rying the  morsels  to  her  pretty  lips  with  a 
steel  knife-blade  blackened  with  vinegar.  And 
there  are  many  over-nice  gentlemen  whom  I 
have  heard  to  aver,  that  to  see  a  lady  eat,  has 
at  all  times  a  potent  disenchanting  influence. 
It  dissolves  the  charm,  they  say,  to  be  obliged 
thus  to  take  actual  notice  that  these  delicate 
creatures,  as  Othello  calls  them,  have  their 
appetites,  and  live  by  consuming  bread  and 
meat,  and  by  the  excercise  of  physical  func- 
tions common  to  man  and  other  lower  animals. 
But,  I  warrant  you,  if  any  of  these  squeamish 
gentlemen  had  seen  Lucy  Manners  at  the  tea- 
table  that  afternoon,  though  she  ate  with  a 
traveler's  appetite,  he  would  have  longed,  as 
John  in  fact  did,  to  be  transformed  into  a 
biscuit,  a  doughnut,  a  slice  of  loaf-cake,  or 


TWICE   MARRIED.  85 

even  a  pickled  cucumber,  so  that  he  might 
have  stood  a  chance  of  touching  her  rosy  lips, 
and  of  being  pressed  by  the  little  pearly  teeth 
that  showed  themselves  between  them.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  I  can  say  of  John  Dashleigh, 
that  his  admiration,  instead  of  being  dimin- 
ished, was  sensibly  augmented  and  hightened 
by  witnessing  the  spectacle  before  him,  and 
his  love  waxed  more  violent  during  each 
moment  of  the  repast. 

When  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  the 
tea-cup,  which  for  the  occasion  was  appro- 
priated to  his  particular  use,  had,  doubtless, 
before  that  time,  been  hallowed  by  the  con- 
tact of  Lucy's  lips,  he  carefully  drank  from 
each  segment  of  the  rim,  so  that  no  portion  of 
the  consecrated  surface  should  escape  his  touch. 
Inspired  by  a  similar  idea,  he  bestowed  num- 
berless kisses  upon  the  bowl  of  his  teaspoon, 
and  the  tines  of  his  unconscious  fork.  Thus 
he  drank  in  love,  as  it  were,  with  each  draught 
of  tea,  and,  whereas,  by  reason  of  the  expedi- 
ents which  I  have  mentioned,  he  neglected 
the  solids  of  the  meal,  but  imbibed  a  most 

unusual  quantity,  it  will  be  readily  believed 

8 


86  TWICE  MARRIED. 

that  when  at  last  he  rose  from  the  table,  with 
the  perspiration  starting  from  every  pore  in 
his  face,  he  was,  like  Solomon  of  old,  full  of 
love. 

After  tea,  the  laborers  came  in  from  the 
fields  to  their  supper,  and  the  boys  drove  the 
cows  in  from  pasture.  John  took  his  pail  and 
went  out  to  the  barn-yard,  but  no  sooner  had 
he  seated  himself  on  a  three-legged  stool 
beside  a  stately  red  cow,  and  the  streams  of 
milk  had  begun  to  patter  upon  the  bottom 
of  the  pail,  than  Lucy  and  Ellen  appeared  at 
the  gate,  and  came  tripping  towards  him, 
holding  their  frocks  so  high  that  John,  who, 
though  one  of  the  most  modest  young  men  in 
the  world — as  I  have  said  before — was,  after 
all,  no  hermit,  could  not  help  again  observing 
the  fashion  of  Lucy's  dainty  ankles. 

The  red  cow  pricked  up  her  ears,  stopped 
chewing  her  cud,  and  gazed  steadfastly  at  the 
unwonted  visitors. 

"  So,  so,  boss !"  said  John  soothingly.  "  Stand 
still,  now." 

"  Oh  !  oh !  that's  Cherry ! "  cried  Lucy ; 
Cherry,  my  own  heifer,  that  I  taught  to  drink 


TWICE    MARRIED.  87 

out  of  a  pail  when  she  was  a  little  speck  of  a 
calf!  I've  helped  to  milk  her  many  a  time. 
Let  me  try  now,  cousin  John,  to  see  whether 
I've  forgotten  how !" 

"  I  wouldn't,  Lucy,  you'll  spoil  your  nice 
dress;"  remarked  prudent  little  Ellen. 

"And  soil  your  hands,"  added  John,  looking 
at  Lucy's  white  taper  fingers,  sparkling,  like 
every  school  girl's  just  returned  home,  with 
many  keepsake  rings ;  and  as  Cherry  herself 
remonstrated  with  an  angry  toss  of  the  head 
and  a  start  forward  that  came  near  upsetting 
the  milk-pail,  Lucy  was  forced  to  relinquish 
the  attempt.  So  she  contented  herself  with 
looking  on,  standing  with  Ellen  as  near  to 
John  as  Cherry  would  permit,  and  talking 
with  him  while  he  continued  his  task. 

"  Cherry  is  like  all  the  rest  of  the  world," 
said  Lucy,  pouting  in  the  most  bewitching 
manner.  She  forgets  her  friends  after  a  little 
time  of  absence." 

"  They've  only  just  taken  away  her  calf," 
said  Ellen,  "and  it  makes  her  cross,  poor 
thing." 

"She  is  usually  very  gentle,"  added  John. 


88  TWICE    MA11RIED. 

"She  is  my  own  heifer,"  said  Lucy.  "She 
was  born  on  my  birth-day,  six  years  ago,  and 
papa  gave  her  to  me  for  my  own." 

Ellen  thought  this  circumstance  a  most 
wonderful  matter,  and  John  was  conscious  of 
an  increased  esteem  for  his  favorite  cow. 

"When  I  am  married,  papa  says  I  am  to 
have  Cherry  as  a  part  of  my  setting  out,"  said 
Lucy ;  at  which  remark  John's  hand  trembled 
so  that  he  milked  all  over  his  knees. 

"Maybe  Cherry  will  be  a  very  old  cow  by 
that  time,"  said  Ellen. 

"Oh,  no!  I  fear  not,"  replied  Lucy  with  a 
rueful  laugh,  (if  one  may  say  so).  "Dear  me! 
Don't  you  think  papa  told  me  the  other  day, 
that  I  am  to  be  married  next  Thanksgiving  day !" 

"To  Joab  Sweeny,  I  suppose?"  said  Ellen, 
while  John  held  his  breath  and  tightened  his 
gripe  on  Cherry's  teats. 

"  Yes,  to  cousin  Joab,"  replied  Lucy,  with  a 
shrug  and  grimace.  "  It's  been  a  settled 
thing,  you  know,  for  ever  so  many  years; 
and  papa  is  set  upon  it.  But,  just  to  think  of 
it — to  marry  my  cousin!  It's  just  as  if  I 
should  marry  you,  John  !" 


TWICE    MARRIED.  89 

John  thought  he  could  perceive  a  distinc- 
tion, not  without  a  difference,  between  the  two 
cases  ;  but  held  his  peace  and  kept  on  milking. 

"I  wouldn't  marry  Joab  Sweeny  for  a  thou- 
sand dollars,"  remarked  Ellen;  "no,  not  for 
the  whole  world!"  she  added  in  a  positive 
tone,  after  a  pause. 

"  Hush !  Nelly !"  murmured  poor  John. 

"And  I  am  sure,"  cried  Lucy,  passionately, 
as  she  remembered,  with  a  shudder,  the  odious, 
leering  simper  with  which  Joab  had  uttered 
his  gallant  speech,  on  the  occasion  of  Andrew's 
wedding;  "and  I  am  sure  I  wouldn't  if  I  could 
hlep  myself.  God  knows  I  don't  wish  to  marry 
him,  for  I  hate  him  as  I  do  a  snake.  And 
mamma,  too — I  truly  believe  she  would  be 
glad  if  the  match  could  be  broken  off  without 
making  papa  outrageous.  She  never  liked 
Aunt  Axy,  nor  Joab  either;  and  what  papa 
sees  to  like  in  him  is  more  than  I  can  tell. 
Cousin  John !  I'll  take  back  what  I  said.  Mar- 
rying Joab  would  not  be  like  marrying  you. 
I'd  rather  have  you  a  thousand  times!"  she 
added,  impetuously,  at  which  John  looked  up 
from  his  pail  for  an  instant,  and  Lucy's  flash- 


90  TWICE    MARRIED. 

ing  eyes  fell  as  they  met  his  glance,  and  the 
glow  of  excitement  on  her  cheek  deepened 
into  a  crimson  blush. 

At  this  moment,  Susan  appeared  at  the 
gate,  and  delivered  a  message  from  the  ma- 
trons in  the  house,  admonishing  the  young 
ladies  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  and  that  the 
dew  was  beginning  to  fall.  So  Lucy  bade 
John  good-night,  and  gave  Cherry  a  timid  pat 
on  the  side,  which  the  ungrateful  brute  resent- 
ed with  a  whisk  of  her  tail  that  knocked 
John's  hat  over  his  eyes,  and  effectually  pre- 
vented his  watching  Lucy's  retreat  as  she  ran 
laughing  towards  the  gate. 

The  most  trivial  circumstance  sometimes  has 
a  momentous  influence  upon  the  destinies  of 
men  and  of  nations.  I  cannot  stop  here  to 
cite  instances  of  this  truth;  and,  indeed,  it 
would  be  needless,  for  everybody  knows  that 
it  is  so.  Now,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  un- 
tying of  the  knot  of  Susan's  garter,  I  verily 
believe  that  Lucy  Manners  would  have  been 
to-day  Mrs.  Deacon  Joab  Sweeny  the  III. 
For,  as  Susan  was  crossing  the  yard,  while  on 
her  way  to  do  the  errand  wherewith  she  was 


TWICE    MARRIED.  91 

charged,  she  suddenly  felt  her  garter  slip.  So, 
first  having  glanced  quickly  about  in  every 
direction,  lest  some  of  the  men  might  be  with- 
in eye-shot,  she  stooped,  and  modestly  lifting 
her  skirts,  tightened  the  piece  of  listing  that 
encircled  her  plump  and  shapely  limb,  and 
went  upon  her  way.  But  the  brief  delay 
caused  by  this  lucky  accident  gave  Lucy  time 
to  reply  to  Ellen,  as  is  hereinbefore  set  forth. 
If  that  reply  had  never  been  uttered,  or  if 
Lucy  and  John  had  not  exchanged  glances  in 
the  way  I  have  just  described — but  I  must 
not  anticipate.  I  fear  I  shall  never  learn  to 
tell  a  story  according  to  the  rules  of  the  art. 

When,  that  night,  John  went  up  into  his 
little  chamber  in  the  attic  of  the  widow's  gable- 
roofed  cottage,  there  was  not,  I  am  very  sure, 
in  any  one  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
a  young  man  more  thoroughly  in  love  than 
he.  Though  he  was  a  plain,  unsophisticated 
young  farmer,  bred  in  the  wilds  of  the  Genesee 
country,  and  unaccustomed  to  read  novels  and 
romances,  or  the  poetry  of  my  Lord  Byron,  I 
dare  take  it  upon  myself  to  say  that,  through- 
out the  length  and  breadth  of  the  Republic, 


92  TWICE    MARRIED. 

there  was  not  a  dry-goods  clerk  or  eke  a  col- 
lege student  more  intensely  or  heartily  in  love. 
Instead,  therefore,  of  going  straight  to  bed,  as 
was  his  habit  at  this  busy  season  of  the  year, 
or,  as  was  sometimes  his  wont — when  not  too 
weary  with  the  toils  of  the  day — sitting  down 
by  the  side  of  his  table  to  read  awhile  until 
he  grew  sleepy,  he  at  once  blew  out  his  light, 
drew  the  curtain  of  his  narrow,  eight-paned, 
dormer  window,  and  seated  himself  beside  it, 
on  the  foot  of  his  humble  bed.  For  awhile, 
the  tumult  of  his  thoughts  was  too  violent  to 
permit  reflection.  The  blissful  consciousness 
of  being  so  entirely  in  love  filled  his  soul  com- 
pletely. The  accustomed  sway  of  reason  was 
suspended.  Once  only  in  a  lifetime  does  the 
lover  experience  the  delicious  emotions  with 
which  John  Dashleigh  was  overwhelmed. 
After  the  first  passionate  ecstasy  of  new-born 
love,-  come  doubts,  and  fears,  and  jealousies. 
The  luster  of  the  new  life  becomes  dimmed 
like  the  brightness  of  metal.  Once  only  in  a 
man's  life,  then,  is  he  completely  happy,  happy 
without  alloy,  when,  forgetting  the  fear  of 
misfortune,  pain  and  disease,  and  the  ever- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  93 

present  dread  of  death,  he  remembers  only 
that  the  world  contains  the  beloved  one,  and 
so  is  better  and  brighter  than  even  the  abodes 
of  the  angels. 

John's  nerves  had  not  yet  ceased  to  thrill 
with  the  rapture  of  Lucy's  kiss,  and  once  he 
was  at  the  pains  even  to  relight  his  candle, 
and  go  to  the  little  looking-glass  that  hung 
against  the  chimney,  where  he  gazed  for  the 
space  of  five  minutes  at  the  reflection  of  his 
own  lips,  which,  that  day,  had  met  those  of 
his  cousin  Lucy  in  that  memorable  salute. 
Then  he  again  put  out  his  candle  and  resumed 
his  post  at  the  window.  There  was  a  light  in 
one  of  the  chambers  of  the  big  house  over  the 
way.  It  shone  in  Lucy's  room,  and  on  the 
muslin  curtains  of  the  window  he  could  per- 
ceive the  shadow  of  a  slight  form,  which  some- 
times seemed  to  move  about  the  room,  and 
then  anon,  for  awhile,  would  stand  at  rest. 
He  could  even  guess,  with  great  precision, 
what,  from  time  to  time,  Lucy  was  doing. 
Now  he  felt  convinced  that  she  was  standing 
at  the  mirror,  arranging  her  hair.  After  that, 


94  TWICE    MARRIED. 

it  was  evident  that  she  was  tying  on  her 
night-cap.  Presently,  she  came  to  the  win- 
dow, and,  drawing  the  curtain  a  little  to  one 
side,  peeped  out,  while,  John,  watching  in- 
tently, forgot  even  to  breathe,  and  came  very 
near  breaking  a  pane  of  glass  with  his  nose. 
Then,  careless  girl,  she  went  into  her  closet 
with  the  candle,  as  the  glimmer  through  the 
curtain  testified.  If  she  should  drop  a  spark 
there,  and  in  the  dead  hours  of  the  night  the 
house  should  burst  forth  in  flames,  John 
thought  how  he  would  rush  through  the  blaz- 
ing windows,  and  bear  the  dear  incendiary 
forth  in  safety,  or  perish  with  her  in  his  arms. 
Then,  for  a  brief  space,  the  light  burned  steadi- 
ly upon  the  table,  and  the  shadow  did  not  fall 
upon  the  curtain.  Lucy  was,  doubtless,  kneel- 
ing at  her  prayers.  At  last,  she  rose,  peeped 
once  more  from  the  window,  so  that  John  was 
sure  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  one  cheek,  and 
the  ruffle  of  her  night-cap,  and  the  next 
moment  all  was  dark. 

It  was  a  warm  and  balmy  spring  night.   The 
gentle  breeze,  laden  with  the  fragrance  of  lilac 


TWICE  MARRIED.  95 

shrubs  and  blossoming  orchards,  seemed  like 
the  very  breath  of  May,  as  it  stirred  the  leaves 
of  the  big  buttonwoods  with  a  quiet,  whisper- 
ing rustle.  The  frogs  in  the  river  piped  a 
melodious  treble,  and  the  roar  of  the  mill-dam 
in  the  gorge  came  down  upon  the  wind, 
softened  to  a  deep  undertone  of  harmonious 
bass.  The  plaintive  notes  of  a  whip-poor- 
will  sounded  faintly  in  the  distance.  There 
was  a  soft  glow  in  the  sky  beyond  the 
eastern  hills,  that  announced  the  rising  of  the 
moon. 

John  was  not  insensible  to  the  gentle  influ- 
ence of  the  time.  The  fever  of  his  excitement 
abated.  He  was  able  to  think  with  compara- 
tive calmness,  to  reason  with  himself  concern- 
ing the  state  of  his  feelings,  and  to  form 
resolutions  and  plans  with  respect  to  his  future 
conduct.  It  was  a  grave  question  that  he 
presently  put  to  himself;  and  three  long  mid- 
night hours  did  he  give  to  it  his  consideration. 
Seated  upon  the  foot  of  his  bed,  with  the  moon- 
light streaming  in  on  his  pale  face,  he  pon- 
dered whether  it  was  his  duty  to  crush  the 


96  TWICB    MARRIED. 

sweet  hopes  that  so  lately  had  sprang  up  in 
his  heart,  and  with  them  crush  the  heart  in 
which  they  grew  withal. 

Easy  as  it  may  seem  to  write  or  to  read 
about  it,  this  was,  nevertheless,  a  stern  and 
terrible  trial,  for  the  result  was  at  times  very 
doubtful,  and  upon  that  result,  John  knew, 
depended  his  hopes  of  earthly  happiness.  Had 
his  conscience,  sitting  in  judgment,  decided 
against  his  inclination,  the  decree  would  have 
been  executed. 

The  conclusion  to  which  he  at  last  arrived, 
as  the  stroke  of  one,  from  Walbury  steeple, 
came  vibrating  through  the  silent  air,  he  ex- 
pressed aloud.  "If  she  loved  him,"  said  he, 
"or  even  regarded  him  with  indifference,  I 
wouldn't  try  to  thwart  the  will  of  my  good, 
kind  uncle,  in  the  matter  of  his  long  cherished 
plan.  I  would  tell  him  all ;  leave  my  mother 
and  sister  to  his  care ;  and  never  return  until  I 
could  endure  the  misery  of  seeing  Lucy  the 
wife  of  another  man.  But  she  does  not  love 
him ;  she  even  dislikes,  hates  him.  And  who 
can  wonder  at  it  ?  To  think  of  her  being  the 


TWICE  MARRIED.  97 

wife  of  such  a  fellow!  She  never  could  be 
happy !  He  hasn't  heart  enough  to  love  her ; 
and  I — I  have  loved  her  from  childhood.  When 
I  first  met  her  in  Hartford,  the  reason  why  I 
did  not  know  her  was,  that  I  had  cherished  the 
image  of  her,  as  I  had  seen  her  last,  so  faith- 
fully. But  my  heart  knew  its  mistress !  Then 
I  struggled  to  overcome  what  I  deemed  to  be 
a  hopeless  passion.  But  now  I  cannot  believe 
that  duty  and  honor  require  me  to  forego 
the  effort  to  win  that  without  which  I  can 
never  be  happy.  So  help  me  God,  then,  I 
will  win  her  if  I  can — though  I  serve  for  her 
fourteen  years,  as  Jacob  did  for  Rachel!" 

Having  thus  settled  the  matter  in  his  own 
mind,  John  looked  out  of  the  window  to  see  if 
all  was  safe  across  the  way,  and  then,  discern- 
ing no  signs  of  danger,  he  quickly  undressed 
himself  and  went  to  bed,  and  in  spite  of  his 
passion  he  was  fast  asleep  in  ten  minutes  after- 
wards. 

So  it  came  to  pass,  that   the  next  Sunday 
night,  when  young  Joab  Sweeny  went  down 
to  call  upon  his  cousin  Lucy,  and  to  open  his 
9 


98  TWICE  MARRIED. 

courting  campaign,  by  repeating  to  his  intend- 
ed bride  certain  speeches  and  sayings  which 
his  mother  had  instructed  him  were  proper 
and  pertinent  to  the  occasion,  he  had,  without 
suspecting  it,  a  most  dangerous  and  determined 
rival. 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE  male  Yankee  is  born  into  the  world 
with  a  latent  desire  in  his  heart  to  leave  his 
home  and  go  abroad  to  seek  a  fortune.  No 
sooner  is  he  weaned  than  this  quality  of  his 
nature  begins  to  be  developed.  It  grows  with 
his  growth  and  strengthens  with  his  strength, 
until,  at  last,  like  the  instinct  of  the  swarming 
bee,  it  irresistibly  impels  him  to  quit  the 
shelter  of  his  native  roof,  and  begin  the  world 
on  his  own  account,  at  a  distance  from  the 
scenes  of  his  brief  childhood.  But  to  this,  like 
every  other  general  rule,  there  are  exceptions. 
This  enterprising  characteristic  of  the  Yankee 
race  is  lacking  in  the  constitution  of  some 
individuals;  or,  at  least,  is  so  dormant,  slug- 
gish, and  imperfectly  developed,  that  its  feeble 
promptings  fail  to  bring  about  the  usual  results. 
Such  a  Yankee,  of  the  present  generation,  is 
like  unto  the  salt  that  has  lost  its  savor. 
Possessing,  usually,  to  a  marked  degree,  all  the 


100  TWICE    MARRIED. 

evil  qualities  peculiar  to  his  countrymen,  as 
well  as  his  share  of  those  that  are-  common  to 
mankind  in  general,  yet  wanting,  withal,  the 
stern,  untiring  energy  of  will,  and  bold  adven- 
turous spirit  by  which  the  national  character 
is  ennobled  and  distinguished,  he  is  apt  to  be  a 
sneaking,  small-souled  fellow,  whose  shrewdness 
is  but  petty  cunning,  whose  religion  is  only  a 
slavish  fear  of  the  devil,  whose  piety  is  nothing 
more  than  a  hypocritical  show  of  sanctity, 
whose  morality  is  a  habit,  begotten  by  the 
caution  of  a  cold,  unimpassioned  nature,  fearful 
to  offend  against  public  opinion,  and  whose 
love  of  country  is  a  mere  cat-like  attachment 
to  the  spot  where  his  eyes  first  blinked  in  the 
light  of  day. 

Young  Joab  Sweeny  was  a  perfect  specimen 
of  this  narrow-minded  class  of  home-keeping 
Yankee  youth.  "While,  with  but  few  excep- 
tions, his  school-fellows  had  gone  forth  into 
the  world,  to  begin  the  battle  of  life  among 
strangers,  he  still  remained  a  contented  inhab- 
itant of  the  Niptuck  valley,  a  clerk  in  his 
father's  store,  waiting  until  the  worthy  Deacon 
should  be,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  transferred 


TWICE    MARRIED.  101 

from  the  church  militant  to  the  church  tri- 
umphant. 

He  was  a  tall,  loose-jointed,  broad-faced 
youth,  with  straight,  black  hair — except  where 
he  was  prematurely  bald — a  pair  of  thin,  silky 
whiskers ;  large,  bony,  white  hands,  and  two 
long,  spindling  legs — the  cause  of  his  great 
stature — terminating  in  large,  unshapely  feet. 
He  was  narrow-shouldered,  hollow-chested,  and 
stooped  in  his  gait ;  but  as,  in  consequence  of 
the  nature  of  his  employment,  his  pale  and 
pimply  face  was  not  embrowned  by  the  sun, 
like  the  farmer's  boys',  nor  his  hands,  like 
theirs,  hardened  with  toil,  as  he  was  usually 
dressed  with  comparative  neatness  and  preci- 
sion, wore  a  white  neck-cloth,  a  watch  and 
seals,  a  paste  brooch  in  his  shirt-bosom,  and 
rings  upon  his  fingers,  and  was  accustomed  to 
practice  the  suavities  of  his  craft,  he  obtained 
and  enjoyed  among  the  ladies  of  Walbury,  both 
young  and  old,  the  reputation  of  being  an  ex- 
tremely good  looking  young  man,  of  a  remark- 
ably genteel  figure,  and  most  engaging  address  ; 
and  there  was  many  a  pretty  damsel  in  the 
congregation  that  each  Sunday  assembled  in 


102  TWICE    MARRIED. 

the  ancient  meeting-house,  who,  in  her  heart, 
envied  Lucy  Manners  the  happy  fortune  that 
fate  was  supposed  to  have  in  store  for  her,  as 
the  chosen  bride  of  young  Joab  Sweeny. 

Like  almost  every  other  clerk  in  a  country 
store,  Joab  had  a  marvelous  taste  and  talent 
for  psalmody.  He  played  the  flute  and  bass- 
viol  with  equal  facility  of  execution — as,  indeed, 
well  he  might,  having  abundant  leisure  for 
practice — and,  moreover,  sung  tenor  with  a 
loud,  blaring  voice,  and  that  peculiar  nasal 
twang  and  intonation,  by  which  godly,  old- 
fashioned  New  Englanders  are  wont  to  be 
greatly  edified.  The  possession  of  these  ac- 
complishments, together  with  the  circumstance 
of  his  being  a  wealthy  deacon's  son,  and  a 
church-member  in  his  own  right,  greatly  favored 
his  success  in  a  little  intrigue,  which  resulted 
in  the  deposition  of  the  ancient  leader  of  the 
choir,  and  his  own  elevation  to  the  post  thus 
made  vacant. 

At  the  stated  semi-monthly  meetings  of  the 
Sewing  Circle  and  Dorcas  Society,  held  alter- 
nately at  the  houses  of  the  members  during  the 
winter  season,  young  Joab  rarely  failed  to  be 


TWICE    MARRIED.  103 

present,  in  the  evening  after  tea.  On  these 
social  occasions  he  chiefly  affected  the  company 
of  the  numerous  and  influential  band  of  elderly 
maiden  ladies,  with  whom  he  was  eminently 
popular.  It  was  really  a  spectacle  well  worth 
the  looking  at,  to  see  this  exemplary  young 
man,  dressed  in  sober  black  and  smooth  and 
spotless  linen,  with  nicely  combed  hair  and 
carefully  brushed  whiskers,  sitting,  at  such 
times,  primly  upright,  with  knees  and  elbows 
bent  at  right  angles,  his  thumbs  sticking  up- 
wards, holding  on  his  arms  a  skein  of  yarn  for 
Miss  Tabitha  Graves  to  wind  upon  a  ball,  and 
meanwhile  retailing  to  the  group  of  admiring 
spinsters  some  piece  of  village  scandal,  selected 
from  the  vast  fund  of  gossip  which  his  position 
behind  his  father's  counter  enabled  him  to 
accumulate,  or  joining,  with  a  great,  choking, 
gurgling  laugh,  in  the  applause  which  his  femi- 
nine friends  were  wont  to  bestow  upon  every 
sally  of  wit  and  smart  speech  that  he  essayed 
to  utter. 

It  is  not  to  be  marveled  at  that  Joab,  con- 
scious of  his  merits,  and  aware  of  the  existing 


104  TWICE    MARRIED. 

treaty  by  which  the  elders  had  agreed  upon 
the  match  between  himself  and  his  cousin 
Lucy,  it  is  not  wonderful,  I  say,  that  Joab 
looked  forward  to  the  term  of  courtship,  with- 
out a  doubt  of  its  being  succeeded  by  the 
blissful  season  of  the  honeymoon.  Indeed,  as 
he  remarked  to  his  worthy  mother,  it  seemed 
like  a  mere  matter  of  form  to  court  Lucy  at 
all,  or  even  to  ask  her  own  consent.  "  It's  all 
a  settled  thing,"  said  he,  "  and,  what's  more,  I 
and  she  both  know  it,  and  there  ain't  no  rub- 
bin'  on't  out.  What's  the  use,  then,  in  runnin' 
up  to  Uncle  Starr's  every  Sunday  night  a-court- 
ing?  What  on  earth  shall  we  find  to  talk 
about  for  so  many  evenings?  You  see,  mother," 
continued  Joab,  remembering  with  secret  awe 
and  rage  the  cold,  brief  sentence  and  haughty 
look  with  which  Lucy  had  returned  his  greet- 
ing ;  "  you  see  she's  been  gone  from  home  so 
long,  and  has  grown  so  big  and  stuck  up,  I 
don't  feel  acquainted  and  familiar  with  her  as  I 
used  to." 

"Law,"  replied  Mrs.  Axy,  "'taint  needful 
to  keep  a-talkin'  to  a  gal  all  the  time.     Why, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  105 

yer  father,  when  he  used  to  come  a-courtin', 
I've  known  him  to  set,  and  set,  sometimes  for 
an  hour  together,  and  skurse  ever  open  his 
mouth,  without  it  was  to  spit  into  the  fire. 
But,  talkin'  or  no  talkin',  go  you  must,  for  how 
would  it  look  to  be  a-courtin'  a  gal,  and  not  go 
and  set  up  a  spell  with  her  o'  Sunday  nights. 
Your  Uncle  Starr  wouldn't  like  it,  and,  besides, 
you  orter  go  ef  for  nothin'  only  to  keep  other 
fellers  away." 

"  Well,"  said  Joab,  "  I  suppose  I  can't  do  no 
less;  and  then,  again,  I  expect  I  must  make 
her  presents  once  in  a  while.  Now,  I  consider 
that's  downright  foolish.  If  I  wasn't  sure  of 
having  her,  why,  I  shouldn't  mind  it  so  much, 
for  it  would  kind  o'  seem  to  be  a  part  of  the 
expense  of  winning  her ;  but  as  it  is,  it  does 
really  appear  to  me  just  like  money  thrown 
away." 

"  Well,  as  for  that,  Joab,"  replied  the  shrewd 
mother,  "do  you  just  mind  to  give  her  only 
them  kind  of  presents  as  will  last,  and  be  useful 
after  marriage.  They'll  all  be  your'n  agin, 
then,  you  know." 


106  TWICE    MARRIED. 

In  fine,  both  Joab  and  his  mother,  not  with- 
out reason,  looked  upon  the  matter  of  the 
proposed  marriage  as  something  immutable, 
and  were  disposed  to  view  the  usual  prelimin- 
aries of  courtship  in  the  light  of  tedious  for- 
malities, rendered  necessary  only  by  the  force 
of  imperative  custom.  When,  therefore,  at 
Joab's  second  Sunday  night  visit,  he  ventured, 
after  much  bashful  circumlocution,  to  suggest 
to  Lucy  that,  perhaps,  it  would  be  about  as 
well,  first  as  last,  for  them  to  ratify  the  con- 
tract already  negotiated  by  their  parents,  he 
was  informed  by  the  young  lady,  in  a  very  curt 
and  decided  manner,  that  she  wished  to  take 
time  to  consider,  before  promising  compliance, 
he  was  completely  dumb-founded  with  angry 
surprise  and  perplexity.  The  Deacon's  wife, 
too,  when  she  was  told  of  this  perverse  conduct 
on  the  part  of  her  niece,  was,  at  first,  almost 
speechless  with  indignation ;  albeit,  when  she 
did  find'  her  tongue,  she  made  herself  ample 
amends  for  the  temporary  inability  to  use  it. 
"The  little  pert,  stuck-up  hussy,"  said  she; 
"the  nasty,  ugly,  little  trollop!"  applying,  if 


TWICE    MARRIED.  107 

you  can  believe  me,  these  unsavory  epithets  to 
our  charming  Lucy  ;  "she  wants  time  to  think 
on't,  does  she  ?  Let  her  father  get  hum  from 
Har'ford,  and  we'll  see?  He'll  make  up  her 
mind  for  her,  I  guess !  He'll  let  her  and  her 
meddlin'  fool  of  a  mother  know  who's  master. 
But  Betsy  Dashleigh  needn't  think  she's  a-goin' 
to  break  up  this  match.  She  can't  alwus  lead 
Starr  by  the  nose,  and  this  time  she'll  find  it 
out.  Oh — h — h !"  cried  Mrs.  Sweeny,  shutting 
her  teeth  with  a  strong  aspiration;  "how  I 
should  like  to  give  that  woman  a  piece  of  my 
mind !" 

During  the  week  which  followed  next  after 
this  unexpected  check,  Colonel  Manners  arrived 
at  home.  Shad  time  having  gone  by,  and  given 
place  to  the  haying  season,  the  General  Assem- 
bly had  finished  its  labors  in  a  hurry,  and  had 
adjourned  without  day.  It  was  not  long,  I 
warrant  you,  before  the  Colonel  was  informed 
of  the  discouragement  which  Joab  had  received 
in  the  prosecution  of  his  suit.  "  Pooh  !  Pooh  ! 
Axy,"  said  he,  in  reply  to  his  irate  sister, 
"  you've  jest  got  yourself  into  a  fret  for  nothin'. 


108  TWICE    MARRIED. 

Why,  I  had  a  talk  with  the  gal  to  Har'ford,  not 
a  month  ago  !  She  knows  she's  a-goin'  to  have 
Joab,  and  expects  to,  like  a  dootifui  darter; 
but  don't  ye  see,  she  wants  the  privilege  of 
doin'  and  sayin'  jest  as  ef  it  wa'n't  all  agreed 
on.  When  wimmen  don't  have  their  own  way, 
they  alwus  like  to  play  they  do,  anyhow.  It's 
nateral  for  her  to  act  jest  as  she  doos.  I  don't 
blame  her  a  mite.  Joab,  I  hain't  no  doubt, 
talked  jest  as  ef  he  had  a  morgidge  on  her,  and 
could  foreclose  any  minnit,  and  that  kind  o' 
riled  her,  for  she's  full  o'  sperit,  now  I  tell  ye. 
Jest  let  him  keep  a-goin'  to  see  her  reglar,  and 
let  him  act  kind  o'  softly,  and  perlite,  and  gen- 
teel, jest  as  ef  he  didn't  know  nothin'  o'  no 
agreement,  but  depended  on  gettin'  her  willin' 
himself,  and  was  obliged  to  afore  he  could 
expect  to  have  her,  and  let  him  ask  her  to  play 
on  her  pianny-forty,  and  bring  down  his  floot, 
and  play  with  her,  and  my  word  for't,  it'll  all 
come  right." 

"Anyhow,  you'd  better  speak  to  her,  and  let 
her  know  there  ain't  no  gettin'  off,"  said  the 
Deacon's  wife. 


TWICE    MARRIED.  109 

"  I  sha'n't  do  no  sich  a  thing,"  replied  the 
Colonel,  positively.  "  It'll  only  jist  make  her 
set  agin  it.  There  ain't  no  hurry.  Let  things 
take  their  nateral  course." 

The  Colonel  was  decided;  and  his  sister, 
after  scolding  to  her  heart's  content,  was  obliged 
to  acquiesce. 

10 


CHAPTEK    VI. 

ONE  fine  morning,  soon  after  the  Colonel's 
return,  John  Dashleigh,  with  a  gang  of  hands, 
began  to  mow  the  barn-lot,  and  for  the  next 
four  weeks  the  Colonel  was  so  busy  looking 
on,  while  John  and  his  men  gathered  in  the 
plentiful  harvests  of  hay,  rye,  and  oats,  that  he 
had  little  time  to  give  heed  to  the  matter  of 
Joab's  courtship.  Each  morning  he  was  stir- 
ring by  the  time  that  the  birds  began  to  sing, 
and  he  went  to  bed  every  night  as  soon  as  he 
had  eaten  a  hearty  supper,  and  snored  away 
till  day  broke  again,  with  scarcely  a  pause. 
Never  had  the  crops  been  heavier ;  never  had 
there  been  a  finer  season  for  securing  them; 
and  never  had  even  Andrew  Bunn  himself  given 
the  Colonel  such  complete  satisfaction  in  the 
performance  of  this  labor,  as  did  his  new  over- 
seer, John  Dashleigh.  The  Colonel  was  loud 
in  his  praises:  "he  is  the  best  farmer  I  ever 
see  of  his  age,"  he  would  say  to  his  wife ;  "  so 
handy  and  keerful.  You  don't  ketch  him  a 


TWICE    MARRIED.  Ill 

sojerin'  and  takin'  the  long  end  of  the  lever 
because  he's  capt'in.  He  jist  takes  the  lead, 
and,  says  he,  '  come  on,'  and  the  feller  don't 
live  that  can  cut  his  corners.  And  then  he's 
so  much  tact  and  kalkelation  for  so  young  a 
chap.  Actilly,  he  gets  more  work  out  of  five 
men,  and  keeps  'em  all  the  time  good-natered 
and  ambitious,  than  any  head-man  I  ever  had 
could  out  of  seven." 

And  it  was,  indeed,  a  sight  right  well  worth 
beholding,  to  see  John  Dashleigh  at  the  head 
of  his  file  of  men,  sweeping  away  before  him 
the  tall  herds-grass,  laden  with  glittering  dew- 
drops,  at  every  steady  swing  of  his  long  scythe- 
blade,  and  leaving  behind  him  a  broad  swarth, 
wider  by  six  inches  than  that  of  any  of  his 
followers.  At  least  this  was  Lucy's  opinion, 
as  she  watched  him  one  morning  from  her 
chamber-window,  and  took  silent  note  of  the 
fine  proportions  of  his  tall  figure,  displayed,  it 
must  be  confessed,  to  the  best  advantage  in  the 
graceful  motions  of  his  labor.  And  as  often  as 
she  met  him  in  the  house,  at  meal  times  and 
noonings,  in  spite  of  his  apparel,  coarse  and 
often  soiled,  and  in  spite  of  the  sweat  and  dust 


112  TWICE    MARRIED. 

of  toil  that  frequently  disfigured  his  merry  face, 
she  never  failed  to  think  what  a  good-looking 
man  was  her  cousin  John. 

In  New  England,  during  the  severe  labors 
of  the  hay-harvest,  the  "  men-folks "  are  a 
privileged  class.  When,  answering  to  the 
welcome  summons  of  the  dinner-horn,  their 
whoop  is  heard  faintly  sounding  from  the  dis- 
tant field,  forthwith  ensues  a  bustle  in  the 
farmer's  kitchen,  and,  by  the  time  the  sweaty 
band  arrive,  and  have  laved  their  sun-browned 
faces  in  cool  water,  at  the  stone  trough  by  the 
well-curb,  the  substantial  dinner  is  steaming 
upon  the  table.  No  meagre  diet  doth  the 
Yankee  haymaker  feed  upon ;  but  hearty  beef 
and  pork,  garnished  with  garden-sauce  in  sea- 
son; new  potatoes,  beets,  beans  and  peas,  green 
corn  and  succotash.  The  best  that  the  house 
affords  is  set  ungrudgingly  before  him,  and, 
though  he  be  a  negro,  he  is  served  at  his  meals 
by  the  mistress  herself  and  her  white-armed 
daughters. 

Lucy  used  to  take  an  especial  pleasure  in 
waiting  upon  John,  as  he  sat  like  a  baron  at  the 
head  of  the  table ;  helping  him  to  choice  mor- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  113 

sels  of  the  victuals,  filling  his  glass  with  cool 
water  or  sparkling  cider,  and,  in  fine,  anticipa- 
ting all  the  wishes  of  his  appetite.  Many  a 
dainty  pie  and  loaf  of  cake  found  its  way  into 
the  luncheon-basket,  that  would  have  remained 
in  the  buttery  if  it  had  not  been  for  Lucy's 
providence.  The  Colonel's  hands,  that  summer, 
fared  sumptuously  every  day,  both  in  the  house 
and  in  the  field.  "Tell  ye,"  said  old  Black 
Tite,  one  day,  moved  to  enthusiasm  by  discover- 
ing in  the  bottom  of  the  firkin  a  half  a  dozen 
cups  of  custard,  and  a  bottle  of  currant  wine ; 
"ef  Joab  Sweeny  dont  jis  get  a  prize,  when  he 
gets  Miss  Loosy,  den  der  ain't  no  bumble-bees." 
In  the  evening,  when  the  toil  of  the  long, 
sultry  day  was  over,  John,  after  making  himself 
tidy,  would  frequently  go  into  the  parlor, 
where  he  would  find  Lucy  and  little  Ellen, 
between  whom  a  very  ardent  friendship  had 
been  revived,  so  that  they  were  seldom  apart. 
Lucy  always  welcomed  him  with  a  smile,  that 
made  him  forget  in  a  single  moment  the  weari- 
ness occasioned  by  a  whole  day  of  hard  labor. 
She  would  insist  upon  his  taking  a  seat  in  the 
big  rocking-chair;  and  then  going  to  the  piano, 


114  TWICE    MARRIED. 

she  would  play  over  his  favorite  airs.  She  had 
a  sweet  little  warbling  voice,  like  a  canary 
bird's ;  just  suited  to  the  songs  that  John  most 
loved  to  hear;  and  I  do  not  believe  that  either 
Jenny  Lind  or  Sontag  ever  sung  to  so  admiring 
an  auditory  as  Lucy  used  to  have  at  these 
pleasant  little  concerts,  in  the  evenings  of  the 
haying  season.  Little  Ellen  thought  her  cousin 
Lucy  the  handsomest  and  most  accomplished 
creature  in  the  world,  and  John's  good  opinion 
was  not  a  whit  the  less  exalted.  Sometimes, 
when  Lucy  got  tired  of  playing  and  singing, 
she  and  Ellen  would  go  and  sit  down  together 
on  the  threshold  of  the  front  doorway,  with 
their  arms  around  each  other's  waists.  John 
would  take  his  place  upon  the  broad  step-stone 
at  their  feet ;  and  there  the  three  would  sit  in 
the  still  twilight,  and  talk  about  all  manner  of 
things.  Lucy  would  tell  over  her  reminiscences 
of  the  Misses  Primber's  school,  and  relate 
numerous  anecdotes  of  her  schoolmates,  until 
Ellen  got  to  know  all  the  young  ladies  by  name, 
as  well  as  if  she  had  actually  been  acquainted 
with  them  in  person;  and  John  was  able,  by 
means  of  Lucy's  vivid  descriptions,  to  recog- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  115 

nize  those  of  them  who  had  been  her  compan- 
ions on  the  occasion  of  his  meeting  her  in  the 
, street  at  Hartford.  Then  John,  in  turn,  would 
give  accounts  of  the  distant  and  wonderful 
Genesee  country,  and  tell  stories  of  wolves, 
bears,  panthers  and  Indians,  some  of  which 
were  so  frightful,  heard  in  the  dim,  shadowy 
gloaming,  that  the  girls  would  beg  him  to  come 
and  sit  between  them  on  the  threshold. 

Sometimes,  when  it  was  moonlight,  they 
used  to  go  out  and  sit  on  the  bench,  under  the 
big  elm,  or  stroll  up  and  down  the  gravel  walk 
in  the  front  yard,  or  may  be  go  across  the  street 
to  the  widow's  cottage.  It  so  happened,  one 
night,  that  they  found  Mrs.  Manners  there,  and 
they  all  had  a  very  merry  time  together,  listen- 
ing to  the  anecdotes  which  the  two  matrons 
told  of  the  babyhood  of  Lucy  and  John.  Mrs. 
Dashleigh  gave,  at  great  length,  a  minute  and 
circumstantial  account  of  the  dangerous  acci- 
dent which  had  befallen  Lucy  when  she  was  a 
two-year  old,  in  falling  down  the  cellar  bulk- 
head, while  John  listened  shudderingly,  and 
thought  what  a  gloomy,  sad-colored  world  it 
would  have  been  if  she  had  been  killed.  After 


116  TWICE    MARRIED. 

this,  the  widow  recalled  to  mind  some  funny 
baby-talk  of  Lucy's,  and  repeated  it;  and  this 
suggested  to  Mrs.  Manners  some  queer  speech . 
or  other  which  John  had  made  while  he  was 
yet  in  petticoats.  Both  the  ladies  agreed  with 
respect  to  the  marvelous  fondness  which  Lucy 
and  John  had  manifested  for  each  other  in  their 
childhood,  and  fortified  their  joint  testimony 
by  alternately  relating  corroborative  incidents. 

"And  don't  you  remember,  Polly,"  cried 
Mrs.  Manners,  offering  her  snuff-box  to  her 
sister,  "how  they  always  used  to  play  they 
was  husband  and  wife  ?" 

"Law!  well!  I  guess  I  do!"  replied  the 
widow.  "I  remember  the  first  time  his  pa 
ever  got  him  a  new  pair  of  boots ;  high  ones, 
you  know,  with  legs  to  'em  like  men's  I  re- 
c'lect " 

"Oh!  I  never  shall  forget  it,"  cried  Mrs. 
Manners,  interrupting ;  "he  come  right  up  to 
our  house,  and  walked  in  as  proud " 

"And  said,"  interpolated  Mrs.  Dashleigh. 

"And,  says  he,"  continued  Mrs.  Manners, 
raising  her  voice  and  speaking  more  rapidly,  so 
that  her  sister  gave  up  the  floor  without  further 


TWICE    MARRIED.  117 

contest;  "and,  says  he,  a  hauling  up  his  trow- 
sers,  so's  to  show  his  boot-legs ;  now,  says  he, 
I'm  a  man,  like  pa,  and  big  enough  to  marry 
Lucy!" 

"And,  don't  you  think — "  began  the  widow. 

"And,  if  you'll  believe  me,"  pursued  the 
irresistible  Mrs.  Manners,  addressing  John  and 
Lucy  as  if  they  were  not  themselves;  "both 
them  little  creturs  cried  like  babies,  as  they 
was,  because  Miss  Graham,  that  was  up  to  our 
house  a  tailorin',  told  'em,  real  sort  o'  cross 
like,  that  they  want  nigh  old  enough  yet." 

"  She  was  a  spiteful  cretur,  that  Miss  Gra- 
ham," said  the  widow. 

"Indeed  she  was,"  replied  her  sister;  "she 
went  up  that  very  night,  and  told  the  Deacon's 
wife  all  about  it,  and  Sally  Blake,  that  was, 
Sally  Bunn,  that  is  now,  told  me  afterwards, 
that  a  madder  woman  she  never  heerd  scold. 
Actilly,  she  whipped  Sally,  and  sent  her  to  bed 
without  any  supper,  when  the  poor  little  gal 
hadn't  done  anything  out  of  the  way." 

After  this  manner,  the  two  elder  ladies  con- 
tinued their  gossip,  to  the  infinite  edification 
and  amusement  of  their  juniors.  It  was  very 


118  TWICE    MARRIED. 

late,  indeed;  nay,  almost  ten  o'clock,  when 
Mrs.  Manners,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  narrative 
of  the  adventures  of  Lucy's  first  school-day, 
under  John's  guardianship,  quietly  slipped  out 
into  the  kitchen,  whither  the  widow  directly 
followed  her,  leaving  Lucy  with  John  and 
Ellen  in  the  front  room.  Presently,  Mrs.  Dash- 
leigh  returned,  and  upon  being  inquired  of  by 
Lucy,  declared  that  Mrs.  Manners,  having  look- 
ed at  the  clock,  had  departed  in  a  great  haste, 
apparently  quite  forgetful  that  she  was  leaving 
Lucy  behind  her.  Of  course,  when  Lucy  got 
up  from  her  chair,  and  said  that  she  must  hurry 
home  too,  John  rose  also,  and  offered  to  be  her 
beau  across  the  street;  and  Ellen  was  going, 
too,  but  her  mother  told  her  it  was  too  late,  and 
that  she  must  stay ;  at  which  the  little  damsel 
was  greatly  dissatisfied. 

It  was  a  most  lovely  midsummer  night ;  still, 
warm,  and  fragrant.  The  moon,  in  a  cloudless 
sky,  was  nearly  at  its  full ;  and  its  rays,  at  this 
hour,  almost  vertical,  came  shimmering  down 
through  the  dense  foliage  of  the  great  elm  that 
stood  in  the  little  lawn  in  front  of  Colonel 
Manners'  house,  and  silvered  the  leaves  of  the 


TWICE    MARRIED.  119 

lilacs  and  syringas  which  grew  about  the  door 
The  clumps  of  shrubbery,  and  the  fruit  trees 
in  the  orchards,  cast  deep  circular  shadows 
upon  the  ground  beneath  them.  The  slender 
spire  of  the  meeting-house  steeple,  in  the  village 
hard  by,  glistened  like  a  silver  needle,  and 
stood  up,  strangely  tall  and  far  away  into  the 
deep  blue  sky.  The  intervale  meadows,  cover- 
ed with  a  dense,  low-lying  mist,  seemed  like 
some  broad  river  or  wide  arm  of  the  sea ;  the 
nearer  trees  and  copses  looming  up  like  islands, 
and  the  hills  beyond,  like  the  distant  further 
shore.  Even  the  sense  of  hearing  aided  the 
illusion ;  for  the  subdued  murmur  of  the  far  off 
water-fall  in  the  northern  glen  sounded  to  the 
ear  so  like  the  noise  of  surf  upon  a  shelving 
sandy  beach,  that  one  suddenly  set  down  upon 
the  spot  would  have  found  it  difficult  to  realize 
that  he  was  in  an  inland  district,  many  miles 
away  from  the  sea.  All  else  was  breathlessly 
still,  except  the  chirping  of  the  crickets  and 
katydids,  and  the  hushed  whisper  of  the  zephyr 
among  the  leaves,  that  served  only  to  make  the 
silence  audible. 

Now,  John  Dashleigh,  when  he  had  deliber- 


120  TWICE  MARRIED. 

ately  made  up  his  mind  to  do  a  thing,  never 
dreamed  of  putting  off,  without  good  cause,  the 
execution  of  his  purpose;  but  proceeded  at 
once  to  action,  as  soon  as  ever  he  was  ready 
and  had  an  opportunity.  Though  he  had  but 
little  experience  in  love  affairs,  his  common 
sense  taught  him  that  it  was  dangerous  to  be 
dilly-dallying  and  hesitating  about  declaring 
himself,  and,  withal,  he  had  been  by  no  means 
an  unobservant  witness  of  the  weekly  recur- 
rence of  Joab's  Sunday  evening  visits.  He  had, 
therefore,  fully  resolved  to  avail  himself  of  the 
first  favorable  opportunity  to  tell  Lucy  that  he 
loved  her,  and  to  ask  of  her  the  momentous 
question,  whether  there  was  any  reason  for  him 
to  hope  that  his  love  might  be  returned.  I 
would  not  have  it  supposed,  however,  that 
John  was  confident  of  receiving  a  reply  such 
as  he  wished  to  hear,  for  I  firmly  believe  there 
was  never  in  the  world  a  lover  more  modest 
than  he,  or  who  was  less  sensible  of  his  own 
merits.  The  hope  that  he  cherished  had  just 
enough  force  to  prompt  him  to  avow  his  love. 
"  There  may  be  a  chance  for  me,"  he  would 
say  to  himself;  and  I  assure  you  he  was  not  the 


TWICE    MARRIED.  121 

man  to  forego  trying  even  one  chance  in  a 
thousand,  or  to  shrink  with  unmanly  dread 
from  learning  thereby  the  fate  in  store  for  him. 

John  and  Lucy  had  got  no  further  than  the 
gate  of  Colonel  Manners'  front  yard,  when  he 
began.  "  Lucy,"  said  he,  with  a  tremor  in  his 
voice  that  he  could  not  control,  "before  you  go 
into  the  house,  I  wish  to  say  something  to  you 
which,  perhaps,  may  displease  you — but  until 
you  bid  me  stop,  or  I  see  you  are  angry  or  an- 
noyed, I  shall  speak  on  till  I  have  finished." 

Now,  that  little  puss,  Lucy,  knew  as  well  as 
John  Dashleigh  himself  did  what  he  was  about 
to  say ;  nevertheless,  of  course,  as  is  the  way 
with  women  at  such  times,  when  they  are  no- 
thing loth  to  listen,  she  dissembled,  and  ap- 
peared to  be  unaware  of  John's  intentions,  and 
affected  a  cool  surprise  and  faint  wonder; 
though,  if  the  truth  were  only  known,  it  would 
appear  that  her  heart  was  throbbing  so  wildly 
she  was  actually  afraid  John  would  hear  its 
thumping.  "Pray,  cousin  John,"  said  she,  as 
soon  as  she  dared  to  trust  her  voice,  "what  can 
you  be  going  to  say  to  me  that  you  think  will 
displease  me?"  "I  wish  to  tell  you  Lucy," 


122  TWICE    MARRIED. 

said  John,  replying  to  the  question  in  the  only 
manner  that  he  was  accustomed  to  use — that 
is  to  say,  in  the  most  straightforward  way  in  the 
world — "I  wish  to  tell  you  that  I  love  you  so 
well,  that  I  cannot  find  words  to  express  myself." 

"Why — y !  John!"  cried  Lucy,  as  if  she  were 
very  much  surprised,  and  affecting  a  reproach- 
ful manner. 

"I  have  offended  you,  I  know,"  said  John, 
who,  in  his  simplicity,  thought  he  had  shocked 
his  fair  cousin  by  his  audacious  avowal ;  and 
his  heart  grew  so  heavy  that  it  came  near 
weighing  him  to  the  ground.  He  looked  down 
into  her  face.  There  was  never  anything  so 
beautiful  as  it  was  in  the  soft  moonlight  that 
shone  upon  it.  She  did  not  raise  her  eyes,  and 
he  felt  sure  that  she  was  angry.  The  feeble 
hope  that  hitherto  had  sustained  him  died  away 
in  his  heart,  and  the  void  it  left  ached  with  a 
torture  so  intense  that,  in  spite  of  his  manhood, 
he  could  not  endure  it  without  complaint.  The 
words  carne  to  his  lips  without  his  consent, 
even  against  his  will.  "Oh!  God!  I  cannot 
bear  it!"  said  he,  in  a  tone  so  full  of  despair 
that  Lucy  looked  up  in  a  sudden  fright,  and  the 


TWICE    MARRIED.  123 

roguish  smile  which  he  had  not  observed  van- 
ished from  her  lips.  She  saw  the  expression  of 
keen  agony  apparent,  upon  his  pale  features ; 
and  the  instinct  of  coquetry — which  I  regret 
to  say  had  a  place  in  her  heart — was  at  once 
shamed  and  subdued,  by  the  sight  of  his  dis- 
tress. She  felt  almost  appalled  at  finding  her- 
self loved  with  such  a  strength  of  passion ;  and 
the  deep  springs  of  womanly  tenderness  welled 
up  in  her  heart  with  a  sudden  overflow.  She 
had  suspected  herself,  before,  of  loving  John, 
though  she  had  not  been  entirely  certain  ;  but 
from  that  moment  she  never  doubted  again  that 
he  was  dearer  to  her  than  all  the  world  besides. 
It  may  not  be  fair,  even  for  an  author,  to 
expose  to  the  world  the  secrets  of  a  maiden's 
heart,  but  the  truth  is  that  Lucy  had  been 
almost  as  strongly  impressed  by  John's  appear- 
ance, on  the  occasion  of  meeting  him  on  the 
street  at  Hartford,  as  he  himself  had  been  at 
seeing  her.  The  young  lady  with  whom  she 
used  to  sleep  at  the  Misses  Primber's  Seminary, 
and  for  whom  she,  at  that  time,  entertained  an 
undying  affection,  which  was  fully  reciproca- 
ted— this  young  lady,  I  say,  (who  is,  by  the  by, 


124  TWICE    MARRIED. 

at  the  present  time,  the  grandmother  of  four 
chubby  children,)  can  testify,  that  not  long 
after  the  occasion  which  has  just  been  alluded 
to,  Lucy  confessed  to  her,  in  a  moment  of  con- 
fidence, that  the  Handsome  Forester  was  her 
very  beau-ideal  of  manly  beauty ;  and  that  she 
wished  "heaven  had  made  her  such  a  man," 
and  had  given  him  the  means  to  dress  a  little 
more  in  accordance  with  the  prevailing  fash- 
ions. No  small  part  of  Lucy's  surprise,  when 
John  dropped  out  of  the  pear-tree,  was  due  to 
her  recognition  of  Robin  Hood  in  the  person  of 
the  youth  prostrate  at  her  feet,  and  at  finding 
him  to  be  the  cousin  John  of  whom  she  had 
always  preserved  so  affectionate  a  remembrance. 
As  I  have  already  told  you,  the  womanly  in- 
stinct which  so  seldom  errs,  revealed  to  her 
that  John  was  in  love  with  her ;  and  when  she 
came  to  reflect  upon  this  discovery,  she  found 
that  it  afforded  her  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  and 
satisfaction  ;  though  she  did  not  as  yet  suspect 
how  nearly  the  condition  of  her  own  heart  re- 
sembled that  of  her  cousin's.  It  was  not  a 
great  while,  however,  before  she  detected  her- 
self thinking  that,  if  Joab  were  only  like  John, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  125 

how  much  less  strong  would  be  her  aversion  to 
the  proposed  marriage.  She  was  alone  in  her 
room,  before  the  glass,  tying  on  her  night-cap 
and  striving  to  coax  the  rebellious  curls  into 
something  like  order,  and  at  first  she  hardly 
dared  to  meet  the  glance  of  her  own  eyes  in 
the  mirror.  She  felt  that  she  was  blushing; 
and  so  she  leaned  her  head  on  the  little  white 
dimity  toilet  table,  and  did  not  look  up  again 
for  a  long  while.  She  asked  her  heart  the 
question,  whether  it  was  not  that  it  loved  John 
which  caused  her  to  wish  that  Joab  resembled 
him ;  and  in  reply  her  deceitful  little  heart 
told  her  a  falsehood,  and  persuaded  her  that 
the  sentiment  in  question  was  nothing  more 
than  merely  a  warm  cousinly  regard  and  affec- 
tion. 

"You  are  to  marry  Joab,  you  know,"  whis- 
pered the  heart,  "and  of  course  it  is  not  won- 
derful you  should  wish  him  to  be  more  like 
John;  for  Joab — between  ourselves — is  any- 
thing but  lovable ;  while  John,"  continued  the 
heart,  throbbing  violently,  "is  a  handsome, 
agreeable,  noble,  manly  young  fellow,  who,  if 
he  had  had  the  one-half  of  Joab's  advantages, 


126  TWICE    MARRIED. 

would  have  made  just  the  lover  and  husband 
we  have  dreamed  about  sometimes." 

"Mere  cousinly  regard!"  repeated  Lucy; 
"and  are  you  sure  that  this  is  all?" 

"  Perfectly  sure,"  faltered  the  heart. 

"  And  ought  I  not  to  be  somewhat  careful  of 
you,  for  fear  lest  I  shall  lose  you?"  says  Lucy; 
"and  should  I  not  conduct  myself  towards 
John  with  a  little  more  reserve?" 

"Pooh!"  replies  the  heart,  "thank  you  for 
nothing;  let  me  take  care  of  myself;  and  do 
you  treat  John  as  he  deserves ;  for  he  is  a  kins- 
man, worthy  of  your  best  cousinly  love.  But," 
continued  the  heart,  with  a  flutter,  "do  as  you 
please ;  I  am  not  at  all  interested  in  the  mat- 
ter." 

"But  on  John's  account;"  persisted  Lucy. 
"Will  not  he  get  to  loving  me  too  much,  and 
so  be  miserable  when  I  am  finally  married  to 
Joab?" 

"You  are  a  vain,  conceited  creature,"  replies 
the  heart;  concealing  a  pang  of  sudden  pain, 
by  retorting  in  this  way ;  "  how  do  you  know 
that  John  loves  you  any  more  than  he  ought  to 
love  a  cousin  and  an  old  playmate  ?  And  even 


TWICE  MARRIED.  127 

if  he  does  love  you  a  little  more  warmly  than 
this,  he  will  forget  you  easily,"  (and  here  there 
was  another  keen  pang,)  "  and  marry  somebody 
else ;"  and  here  there  came  a  third  pang,  so 
violent  that  Lucy  burst  into  tears,  and  cried 
with  her  head  still  on  the  table,  until  at  last 
she  put  out  her  light  in  a  hurry,  and  got  into 
bed,  where,  after  a  while,  she  sobbed  herself  to 
sleep. 

Now,  though  the  heart  caused  itself  a  deal 
of  distress  by  suggesting  this  notion  of  John's 
marrying  some  other  girl,  it  could  not  have 
done  a  thing  which  would  have  aided,  to  a 
greater  degree,  the  deception  of  which  it  had 
been  guilty.  For  Lucy  was  thereby  persuaded 
to  fancy  herself  thinking  of  John,  as  if  he  were 
already  the  lover  and  suitor  of  this  imaginary 
mistress ;  and  her  heart  kept  on  assuring  her 
that  of  course  there  could  be  no  danger  of 
loving  him  too  well.  Besides,  this  idea  pre- 
vented her  from  feeling  for  John  that  tender- 
ness which  would  have  alarmed  her,  and  put 
her  upon  her  guard.  Indeed,  there  were  some- 
times, when  this  fancy  was  uppermost  in  her 
mind,  that  she  carried  herself  towards  him  with 


128  TWICE  MARRIED. 

a  coolness  and  reserve  which  caused  him  no 
little  pain.  However,  these  occasions  were 
unfrequent ;  for,  as  I  have  told  you,  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  impulses  of  her  heart,  she  usually 
treated  him  with  the  kindness  and  distinction 
due  to  so  near  and  worthy  a  kinsman.  But 
when,  on  the  night  that  John  declared  his  love, 
Lucy  was  forewarned  by  his  manner  of  his  in- 
tention to  do  so,  her  treacherous  little  heart 
began  to  beat  with  such  a  tumultuous  delight 
and  sweet  alarm,  that  it  was  no  longer  able  to 
deceive  its  mistress ;  and,  as  I  have  already 
related,  the  emotion  which  filled  her  soul  at  the 
spectacle  of  John's  anguish,  caused  by  her 
supposed  indifference,  testified  so  plainly,  with 
respect  to  the  condition  of  her  own  feelings, 
that  she  could  not  help  being  convinced.  She 
acknowledged  to  herself  that  she  loved  him 
with  all  her  heart ;  and  then  she  hastened  to 
relieve  the  pain  that  he  was  suffering.  She 
took  his  hand,  and  without  thinking  of  herself, 
or  giving  heed  to  the  proprieties  of  maidenly 
reserve,  she  looked  up  straight  into  his 
face. 

"John,"  said  she,   "dear  John;   if  it  will 


TWICE    MARRIED.  12S 

give  you   pleasure  to  know  that — I love 

you " 

When  Lucy  had  got  as  far  as  this  she  hesita- 
ted, and  then  paused ;  for  she  saw  that  she  had 
said  enough  for  her  purpose  ;  and,  besides,  it  is 
somewhat  of  an  enterprise,  for  a  lady  to  tell  a 
gentleman,  for  the  first  time  in  the  world,  that 
she  loves  him,  except  in  a  whispered  monosyl- 
lable, by  the  way  of  reply  to  an  urgent  and  oft 
repeated  question.  But,  notwithstanding  the 
incompleteness  of  the  sentence,  John  thought 
he  had  never  before  heard  anything  so  perfect. 
He  could  hardly  believe  his  senses,  and  he 
would  have  doubted  the  evidence  of  his  ears, 
but  that  this  testimony  was  corroborated  by 
the  soft  and  bewitching  confusion  of  Lucy's 
manner ;  for,  no  sooner  had  she  ceased  speak- 
ing, than  she  dropped  her  eyelids,  and  looked 
down  upon  the  ground,  her  head  drooping  with 
modest  concern,  at  the  boldness  of  her  speech ; 
while  her  face  was  suffused  with  a  charming 
blush,  that  could  be  perceived  even  by  the 
moonlight. 

For  a  single  moment  John  stood  still  and 
uncovered  his  head.  I  am  not  ashamed  to  con 


130  TWICE  MARRIED. 

fess,  that  during  this  brief  pause  he  uttered  a 
fervent  thanksgiving  to  the  good  God.  The 
impulse  of  every  man's  heart  prompts  him, 
when  suddenly  made  conscious  of  the  gift  of  a 
great  blessing,  or  when  first  assured  of  deliver- 
ance from  great  peril,  to  do  what  John  Dash- 
leigh  did ;  but  it  is  not  every  one  who,  like  him, 
would  obey  his  good  impulses  at  such  a  time. 
Lucy  observed  this  emotion  of  gratitude,  and 
its  devout  expression ;  and  I  assure  you  that 
she  loved  him  none  the  less,  but  rather  the 
more,  for  that  the  first  impulse  of  his  adoration 
had  been,  not  towards  her,  but  to  the  great 
Giver  of  all  good  gifts. 

I  shall  not  relate  further  what  was  said  and 
done  by  John  and  Lucy,  during  the  remainder 
of  the  time  they  were  together  that  memorable 
evening ;  because,  as  they  talked  mostly  in 
whispers,  and  low  murmurs,  audible  only  to 
themselves,  it  is  plain  enough  that  they  did  not 
wish  to  be  overheard  and  reported.  Let  it 
suffice,  then,  to  say  that  when,  an  hour  after- 
wards, they  parted  at  the  step-stone  of  the  front 
door,  and  he  took  advantage  of  the  shadow  of 
a  lilac-bush  to  press  a  prolonged  kiss  upon  her 


TWICE  MARRIED.  131 

lips,  he  had  a  perfect  and  indefeasible  right  so 
to  do.  She  was  entirely  willing  to  be  bidden 
good-night  in  that  pleasant  fashion — as  well, 
indeed,  she  might  be — for  she  had  promised  to 
marry  John,  and  he  had  promised  to  marry 
Lucy. 

When  Lucy  went  into  the  house  she  found 
her  mother  sitting  up  and  waiting  for  her.  As 
soon  as  she  took  off  her  bonnet,  looked  up  at 
the  clock,  and,  in  a  whisper,  began  to  stammer 
excuses  for  staying  out  so  late,  her  mother  laid 
down  her  knitting-work,  and  looked  up  into 
her  blushing  face  with  such  a  shrewd,  kind, 
knowing,  inquiring  smile,  that  Lucy  was  per- 
suaded by  it  not  to  put  off  the  confession  which 
she  had  resolved  to  defer  until  the  morning, 
but  to  tell  at  once  what  had  happened.  She 
was  a  little  embarrassed,  and  at  a  loss  how  to 
begin ;  but  when  her  mother  put  her  arm 
about  her  waist,  and  kissed  her  head,  as  she 
leaned  it  against  her  bosom,  and  whispered 
softly,  "tell  me  all  about  it,  my  child,"  the 
words  came  of  themselves,  right  out  of  her  full 
heart. 

They   sat  there   together  until  the  candle 


132  TWICE    MARRIED. 

burned  down  to  its  socket,  talking  in  whispers  ; 
while  in  the  bedroom  hard  by,  the  good  Colonel, 
against  whose  cherished  project  they  were  plot- 
ting, tired  with  his  afternoon's  labor  in  the 
hayfield,  slept,  oblivious  of  the  danger  and  his 
cares.  Once  in  a  while  his  sonorous,  measured 
snoring  would  cease  for  a  moment,  and  the  two 
women  would  listen  with  bated  breath,  until, 
with  a  vigorous  puff  and  snort,  the  sleeper 
would  start  off  again  upon  another  heat,  and 
the  whispered  conference  would  be  resumed. 
At  last,  when  the  tall,  old-fashioned  clock  in 
the  corner  began  to  splutter  its  warning,  be- 
fore striking  the  hour  of  two,  Mrs.  Manners 
kissed  the  glowing  cheek  of  her  daughter,  and 
with  another  low  murmured  assurance  that 
she  herself  would  manage  to  bring  everything 
to  a  happy  result,  bade  her  good-night ;  and 
Lucy,  after  returning  her  mother's  kiss,  lit  her 
candle  and  tripped  up  stairs,  with  a  heart  as 
light  as  love  and  hope  could  make  it,  and  her 
eyes  as  sparkling  and  wide  awake  as  they  had 
ever  appeared  of  a  morning,  after  a  long,  sound 
night's  slumber.  When  she  got  up  into  her 
chamber,  she  put  her  light  down  upon  the  table, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  133 

arid  went  to  the  open  window,  to  look  out  upon 
the  bench  under  the  big  elm  tree  ;  a  spot  ever- 
more to  be  endeared  to  her  by  having  been  the 
place  where  she  and  her  lover  had  plighted 
faith  to  each  other. 

The  moon  was  still  shining  brightly,  and  she 
was  not  a  little  startled  at  beholding  John 
Dashleigh,  standing  with  Boatswain  in  the 
shadow  of  the  tree.  He  was  not  so  far  off  but 
that  she  could  hear  him  speak,  in  a  low,  quick 
tone,  as  she  came  to  the  window.  "  Don't  be 
afraid,"  said  he,  advancing  towards  the  house 
as  he  spoke,  until  he  came  and  stood  among 
the  thick  lilac-bushes  that  grew  before  the 
parlor  windows.  "It's  me,"  said  John,  again 
looking  up. 

"But  why  have  you  not  gone  home?"  whis- 
pered Lucy,  secretly  pleased,  withal,  that  her 
lover  had  not  found  it  in  his  heart  to  go  to  bed 
like  a  sensible  man,  but  had  preferred  to  stay 
out  in  the  moonlight,  haunting  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  big  elm,  during  the  short 
hours. 

"I  saw  that   you   did  not  go  up  to  your 

room,"   replied  John,    "and   so  I  have  been 
12 


134  TWICE  MARRIED. 

waiting  and  watching.  You  have  been  talking 
with  Aunt  Betsy '?" 

"  Yes ;"  said  Lucy  with  great  vivacity,  "  and 
it's  all  right !  I  have  told  her  everything,  and 
just  as  we  thought,  she  is  on  our  side  !  Hur- 
rah !" 

"And  what  does  she  say?"  asked  John, 
eagerly. 

"  I  mustn't,  on  any  account,  tell  papa,  at 
present.  She  will  manage  all  that — " 

"  And  Joab  ?" 

"  Ah  !  that's  the  worst  of  it,  John.  She  says 
that  I  must  let  Joab  continue  his  horrid  visits, 
though  I  may  tell  him  that  I  don't  like  either 
him  or  his  visits,  and  will  never  be  willing  to 
marry  him.  After  that,  she  says,  he  can  have 
no  reason  to  complain  whatever  may  happen." 

"  Well,"  said  John,  in  a  doubtful  tone,  "  for 
my  part  I  must  own  that  I  think  the  plainest 
and  most  straightforward  way  is,  usually,  the 
best  way.  However,  Aunt  Betsy  is  a  very  wise 
and  sensible  woman,  and — " 

At  this  moment,  Boatswain,  upon  whose 
doggish  nature  and  sensibilities  the  moonlight 
had  been  exercising  its  wonted  influence,  and 


TWICE    MARRIED.  135 

who,  besides,  though  evidently  unwilling  to 
entertain  ill-natured  suspicions,  concerning 
John's  motives  in  lurking  about  the  house  at 
midnight,  had,  nevertheless,  in  secret,  been 
greatly  disturbed  in  his  mind  thereby,  Boat- 
swain, I  say,  suddenly  threw  back  his  head, 
stuck  his  nose  into  the  air,  and  through  the 
wide  calibre  of  his  capacious  throat  gave  vent 
to  an  obstreperous  howl,  which  was  intended 
partly  as  a  serenade  to  the  man  in  the  moon, 
and  partly  by  way  of  respectful,  but  earnest 
remonstrance  against  the  further  continuance  of 
John's  singular  and  ill-timed  proceedings. 

"  Heavens  !  what  a  noise  !"  cried  Lucy,  who 
had  been  at  first  almost  scared  out  of  her  wits 
by  Boatswain's  outcry. 

"  Hush-sh,  hush  up  !  get  out,  you  brute  !" 
cried  John,  stamping  on  the  ground. 

"  Ow-ow-oo-o-o-o-woo,"  howled  the  dog, 
still  with  his  muzzle  pointing  towards  the 
zenith,  but  looking  sideways  at  John  with  an 
intelligent  leer,  as  if  he  would  say,  "  I'm  right, 
and  you  know  it.  You  ought  to  be  a-bed  at 
this  time  o'  night,  and  not  be  here  under  Lucy's 
window.  You're  a  young  man,  and  a  friend  of 


136  TWICE  MARRIED. 

mine,  and  probably  don't  mean  any  harm ;  but 
your  conduct  isn't  proper,  and  I  can't  help  say- 
ing so — ow-ow-oo-o-woo." 

John's  conscience  was  smitten  by  this  re- 
proof, which  was  as  intelligible  as  if  it  had 
been  uttered  in  the  plainest  English.  So  he 
threw  up  a  kiss  to  Lucy,  and  she  dropped  one 
down  to  him,  and  they  bade  each  other  good- 
night. Then  Lucy  pretended  to  draw  the  cur- 
tains close,  but  left  a  peep-hole  through  which 
she  watched  John  as  he  went  along  down  the 
gravel  walk,  accompanied  by  Boatswain,  who 
appeared  to  be  exceedingly  gratified  at  his 
retreat ;  though,  to  be  sure,  when  John  turned 
to  latch  the  wicket  after  him,  the  dog  came 
up  and  licked  his  hand,  snuffing  and  wagging 
his  tail  with  an  apologetic  manner;  as  if  to 
express  a  hope  that  no  offense  whatever  would 
be  taken  at  his  well-meant  outcry,  but  that  the 
cordial  friendship,  which  ever  since  the  affair  of 
the  pear-tree  had  subsisted  between  them, 
might,  notwithstanding,  continue  unbroken. 

John  stood  upon  the  doorstep  of  his  mother's 
cottage  until  he  saw  the  light  extinguished  in 
Lucy's  room.  Then,  softly  pressing  the  latch, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  137 

and  gently  pushing  the  door  ajar,  he  went  in, 
and  was  walking  on  tiptoe  across  the  narrow 
kitchen  floor,  towards  the  stairs  that  led  to  his 
attic,  when  he  heard  his  mother's  voice  calling 
to  him  in  a  subdued  but  distinct  tone.  He 
turned  and  went  to  the  door  of  her  little  bed 
room.  She  was  in  bed,  leaning  on  her  elbow ; 
while  little  Ellen  slept  soundly  by  her  side, 
with  the  moonlight  shining  in  upon  her  pretty 
face. 

"  I  have  disturbed  you,  I'm  afraid,  mother," 
said  John. 

"  No,  my  son,  I  have  not  yet  been  asleep,  to- 
night," said  Mrs.  Dashleigh,  and  then,  in  a  mo- 
ment after,  she  asked,  "  What  does  Lucy  say?" 

"  Mother  !"  cried  John,  in  surprise. 

"Did  you  think,  my  darling,  I  had  not 
guessed  your  secret  ?"  said  the  widow.  Then 
there  was  a  pause,  while  the  kitchen  clock 
ticked  loudly.  "  She  is  mine,  mother,"  said 
John,  at  last.  "Thank  God!" 

"  Thank  God,"  repeated  the  widow,  suddenly 
lying  down  with  her  face  upon  the  pillow. 
Poor  woman ;  the  instinct  of  a  mother's  heart 
had  revealed  to  her  that  John  was  loving  his 


13S  TWICE    MARRIED. 

fair  cousin  so  well  that  his  life's  happiness  was 
staked  upon  the  issue.  She  had  divined  his 
resolution  to  leave  his  home  and  seek  in  ab- 
sence to  conquer  his  passion  if  he  should  fail 
to  win  Lucy's  love. 

"  Then  you  know  all,  mother  ?"  asked  John. 

"  I  knew  that  you  loved  Lucy,"  replied  the 
widow,  looking  up. 

"  And  aunt  Betsy  ?" 

"  She  went  home  alone  to-night  on  purpose 
to  give  you  the  opportunity  to  speak  to  Lucy 
which  she  thought  you  wished  for." 

"  God  bless  her!"  said  John,  with  fervency. 

"I  have  been  watching  you  through  the  win- 
dow all  the  livelong  night,"  continued  Mrs. 
Dashleigh.  "  I  havn't  had  my  eyes  off  from 
you  since  you  first  went  out  till  you  came  to 
the  door  again.  I  saw  you  sitting  on  the  bench 
with  Lucy,  in  the  shadow,  and  though  I 
couldn't  see  you  then  so  plain,  I  guessed  you'd 
been  successful.  So  I  went  to  bed,  but  still 
kept  peeping  through  the  window ;  but  when, 
after  she  went  in,  you  stayed  in  the  yard,  walk- 
ing about  so  like  a  distracted  person,  I  feared 
all  had  gone  wrong." 


TWICE    MARRIED.  139 

"  No,  mother,"  cried  John,  gaily ;  "  all  is 
right ;  at  least,"  said  he,  correcting  himself, 
"  all  but  getting  Uncle  Starr's  consent ;  that 
yet  remains  to  be  done." 

"  Just  leave  that  matter  to  your  aunt  Betsy," 
said  his  mother.  "She  can  bring  it  about,  she 
says,  though  I  don't  well  see  how.  But  now 
kiss  me,  and  run  to  bed.  You'll  not  feel  like 
haying  it  to-morrow,  poor  boy." 

"Humph!"  said  John,  shaking  himself; 
"why,  mother,  I  could  pitch  a  ton  of  hay  over 
the  big  beam  in  five  minutes,  and  not  feel  it ! 
I'm  as  strong  as  an  ox.  Never  fear  that  I 
shan't  do  a  good  day's  work  to-morrow.  A 
light  heart  makes  light  labor." 

And,  in  point  of  fact,  when  the  sun  went 
down  after  his  next  rising,  John  had  performed 
such  wonders  in  the  hayfield,  that  to  this  day 
old  Tite  recounts  them  by  way  of  illustrating 
his  favorite  theory  of  the  degeneracy  of  the 
later  generation;  until  at  last  the  story  has 
grown  so  marvelous  as  to  be  beyond  sober 
belief. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE  last  great  wain-load  of  red-top  and 
clover  had  long  since  been  hauled  home  from 
the  most  distant  outland  meadow,  and  with 
much  clamor  and  rejoicing  had  been  safely 
garnered  upon  the  lofty  summit  of  the  fragrant 
mow.  Where,  erewhile,  had  waved  fields  of 
stout  timothy,  and  golden  oats  and  barley, 
now  herds  of  cattle  roamed  at  will,  gleaning 
after  the  reapers,  unchecked  by  gates  and  bars, 
and  safe  from  molestation  and  pursuit,  as  tres- 
passers, by  angry  men  and  dogs.  The  pipe  of 
the  quail  was  heard  among  the  patches  of 
yellow  stubble  that  checkered  the  yet  green 
hill-sides.  The  maize  stalks,  bending  with  the 
weight  of  lusty  ears,  had  been  despoiled  of 
their  nodding  plumes ;  and  between  their  long 
rows,  hosts  of  round,  yellow  pumpkins  lay 
ripening  in  the  sun,  among  the  withered  vines. 
In  the  orchards,  beneath  the  trees,  the  fallen 
fruit  reddened  the  ground.  Great  heaps  of 
rosy  apples  were  piled  beside  the  sheds,  where 


TWICE    MARRIED.  141 

all  day  long  the  creaking  cider-mills  uttered 
loud  complaints,  while  from  the  press  hard  by 
the  rich  must  trickled  from  the  pummice, 
with  a  pleasant,  tinkling  sound,  into  the  brim- 
ming vats.  The  foliage  of  the  woods  upon 
the  western  cliffs  was  mottled  with  gaudy  hues 
of  red  and  yellow.  Even  the  crowns  of  the 
hardy  elms  were  no  longer  green,  and  each 
rude  breath  of  wind  shook  from  aloft  a  shower 
of  rustling  leaves.  In  the  chilly  mornings, 
beneath  the  oaks  and  chestnuts,  the  frosty 
sward  was  bestrewn  with  mast,  where  provi- 
dent squirrels,  mindful  of  the  coming  winter, 
filled  their  capacious  cheeks,  and  then  scamper- 
ed nimbly  homewards  with  their  spoil  along 
the  tops  of  walls  and  fences.  The  berries  of 
the  mountain  ash  and  asparagus,  and  the  cap- 
sules on  the  rose  bushes  had  grown  to  ruddy 
maturity.  By  the  roadside  the  withered  milk- 
weeds displayed  the  glossy,  silken  contents  of 
their  bursting  pods,  and  the  hazy  air  was  full 
of  thistle-down  and  floating  gossamer.  The 
frowzy  pastures  were  bright  with  the  yellow 
blossoms  of  the  golden-rod  and  mullein.  The 
measured,  muffled  thump  of  flails,  and  the 


142  TWICE    MARRIED. 

clatter  of  farming-mills  all  day  resounded 
through  the  valley.  All  night  the  pensive 
crickets  chirped  the  requiem  of  departed  sum- 
mer, and  petulant  katydids  joined  in  the  me- 
lancholy chorus  with  harsh,  dissonant  cries. 
October,  the  month  of  plenty,  had  arrived, 
with  its  bright  but  dwindling  days  and  hale 
and  frosty  nights. 

It  was  a  warm  and  sunny  Sunday  afternoon, 
and  the  staid  and  pious  population  of  Walbury 
had  assembled,  for  the  second  service,  within 
the  walls  of  their  ancient  meeting-house.  The 
scripture  had  been  read,  the  first  hymn  sung, 
the  long  prayer  devoutly  uttered,  to  the  final 
amen,  and  the  weary-footed  congregation,  once 
more  seated  at  their  ease,  had  listened  admir- 
ingly to  the  singers  in  the  gallery,  while,  with 
various  rates  of  speed,  each  had  followed,  as 
best  he  might,  in  the  wake  of  Joab,  bravely 
leading  them  through  the  intricate  windings, 
turnings,  and  doublings  of  that  famous  old 
fugue  melody  of  "  Majesty."  The  Parson  had 
put  on  his  spectacles  and  risen  to  his  feet,  and 
Deacon  Sweeny,  as  wras  his  custom  of  a  Sunday 
afternoon,  had  thrown  over  his  bald  crown  a 


TWICE    MARRIED.  143 

red  bandanna  handkerchief,  and,  leaning  his 
reverend  head  against  a  post  that  stood  handily 
in  the  corner  of  his  pew,  had  comfortably  dis- 
posed himself  for  a  quiet  nap.  But  when, 
instead  of  opening  at  once  the  well-worn  covers 
of  his  sermon-book,  and  giving  out  the  text, 
Parson  Graves  slowly  spread  out  before  him 
on  the  desk  a  broad,  stiif  sheet  of  crackling 
paper,  and  began  to  read,  with  an  unusual  in- 
flation of  tone  and  pomposity  of  manner,  "  By 
His  Excellency,  the  Governor  of  the  State  of 
Connecticut — A  Proclamation;"  the  Deacon 
quickly  roused  himself,  snatched  the  covering 
from  his  head,  and  sat  upright  beside  his  rigid 
spouse.  Every  eye  was  fixed  upon  the  aged 
minister,  and  every  ear  was  strained  to  catch 
the  mangled  syllables  as  they  fell  from  his 
sunken  lips.  Even  the  mischievous  boys,  in 
the  high  fastness  of  the  side  galleries,  shut  their 
jack-knives  and  peered  over  the  tops  of  the 
pews,  where,  secure  from  observation,  they  were 
wont  to  disport  themselves  during  the  tedious 
sermon  time,  and  gave  strict  heed,  for  once,  to 
what  was  proclaimed  from  the  pulpit.  Straight- 
way, in  the  excited  imaginations  of  these  in- 


144  TWICE    MARRIED. 

genuous  youth,  rose  appetizing  visions  of  broad 
pewter  platters,  whereon  lay  sprawling  on 
their  backs  huge  turkeys,  which  as  yet  stalked 
monarchs  of  the  noisy  poultry-yard  ;  of  mighty 
pasties,  hot  from  the  oven,  with  crisp  and 
melting  crusts  bulging  upwards  like  a  dome, 
and  pregnant  with  tender,  delectable  morsels 
of  dismembered  chickens ;  of  other  pies,  skill- 
fully compounded  of  pumpkins,  mince-meat, 
or  apples ;  of  round-bellied  puddings,  speckled 
with  plums  and  unctuous  with  suet,  and  of 
numerous  other  spicy  dainties  that  are  wont  to 
load  the  groaning  tables  at  Thanksgiving- 
time.  Nay,  I  fear  not  to  aver  that  even  the 
mouth  of  Parson  Graves  himself  watered  as  he 
enunciated,  with  sonorous  emphasis,  the  con- 
cluding words — "By  His  Excellency's  com- 
mand: Thomas  Day,  Secretary;"  and  folding 
up  the  document  laid  it  carefully  between  the 
leaves  of  the  big  Bible ;  for,  albeit  he  was 
nearly  toothless,  he  was,  nevertheless,  a  stout 
and  famous  trencherman,  a  quality  that  had 
greatly  enhanced  his  popularity  among  two 
generations  of  notable  Walbury  housewives. 
But,  though,  in  like  manner,  the  minds  of 


TWICE    MARRIED.  145 

nearly  all  the  congregation,  thus  suddenly 
diverted  from  things  spiritual,  were  busy  with 
thoughts  and  anticipations  relating  to  the 
household  cares  and  carnal  delights  which  per- 
tain to  the  annual  feast-day  of  New  England, 
there  were  a  few  among  the  hearers  of  the 
proclamation,  to  whom  it  was  suggestive  of 
ideas  of  a  different  kind.  Thus,  while  Deacon 
Sweeny  was  going  through  with  a  mental  cal- 
culation of  the  probable  profits  that  would  ac- 
crue to  him,  by  reason  of  the  increased  demand 
for  raisins,  ginger,  all-spice  and  molasses,  which 
experience  had  taught  him  to  expect  as  inci- 
dental to  the  season,  Mrs.  Axy,  his  amiable  con- 
sort, was  forming  a  determination  to  avail  her- 
self of  the  very  first  opportunity  to  call  the 
matter  of  Joab's  and  Lucy's  wedding  to  the 
mind  of  her  brother.  The  Colonel,  himself, 
somewhat  pricked  in  the  conscience  for  his 
neglect  and  procrastination,  was  resolving  to 
delay  no  longer,  but  to  open  the  same  subject 
that  very  night  to  his  wife,  and  to  enjoin  upon 
her  and  Lucy  the  commencement  of  a  series  of 
preparations  for  the  momentous  event.  Mrs. 

Manners,   with   lips  a  little  compressed,  was 
13 


146  TWICE    MARRIED. 

slily  watching  the  face  of  her  sister-in-law, 
the  Deacon's  wife,  occasionally  giving  a  quick 
glance  of  observation  at  the  Colonel,  though, 
meanwhile,  she  affected  to  be  gazing  stead- 
fastly towards  the  pulpit.  Lucy,  upon  another 
seat  of  the  pew,  was  pouting  with  anger,  and 
almost  ready  to  cry  with  vexation,  because 
Joab,  from  the  gallery,  facing  her,  was  trying 
to  catch  her  eye,  and,  when  he  thought  he  had 
succeeded  in  this  maneuver,  to  convey  to  her 
the  intelligence  of  what  was  passing  in  his  own 
mind.  John,  duly  observant  of  Joab's  winks 
and  leers,  was  one  moment  tingling  with  sup- 
pressed wrath,  and,  at  the  next,  flushing  in  an 
extatic  agony  of  anxious  hope,  when  he  recall- 
ed to  mind  the  confident  prediction  of  his  aunt 
Betsy,  that  never,  the  longest  day  of  his  life, 
would  Joab  Sweeny  be  the  husband  of  Lucy 
Manners. 

Thirty  years  ago,  the  New  England  Sab- 
bath ended  at  set  of  sun.  When,  closely 
watched  by  impatient  children,  the  orb  of  day 
slid  slowly  down  the  western  sky,  and  finally 
vanished  from  the  sight,  beyond  the  distant 
mountains,  a  universal  shout  of  juvenile  glad- 


TWICE  MARRIED.  147 

ness  saluted  his  departure;  and  even  the  grave 
visages  of  the  elders,  weary  with  the  strait  reli- 
gious aspect,  relaxed  into  unwonted  smiles. 
Then  commenced  noisy  sports  upon  the  village 
green,  and  sprucely  attired  swains  set  forth 
to  where  buxom  damsels,  all  made  ready  to  be 
courted,  awaited  the  coming  of  their  beaux. 
Then,  thrifty  housewives,  of  the  brisk  and 
bustling  sort,  were  accustomed  to  begin  the 
weekly  labor  of  the  wash-tub  and  pounding- 
barrel.  No  one  need  be  shocked  or  surprised, 
therefore,  to  hear  that  Colonel  Manners  and 
his  godly  brother-in-law,  the  Deacon,  met  each 
other,  that  Sunday  night,  at  the  bar-room  of 
the  tavern,  where,  of  a  Sabbath  evening,  it  was 
the  habit  of  the  village  elders  to  assemble  for 
the  purposes  of  social  intercourse,  the  exchange 
of  news  and  opinions,  and  the  discussion  of 
town,  state,  and  national  affairs  and  politics. 
These  conclaves  selected,  from  time  to  time, 
the  candidates  for  selectmen  and  deputies  to  the 
General  Assembly,  and  the  town  and  freemen's 
meetings  rarely  failed  to  ratify  these  nomina- 
tions. Each  of  the  grave  seniors,  in  his  turn, 
used  to  call  for  a  mug  of  flip  or  sling,  which, 


148  TWICE    MARRIED. 

when  prepared  by  the  landlord,  was  passed 
from  hand  to  hand,  and  from  mouth  to  mouth. 
Even  Parson  Graves  himself  not  unfrequently 
took  his  seat  at  the  bar-room  fire,  and  though 
he  never  paid  a  reckoning,  like  the  rest  of  the 
company,  it  was  not  because  he  abstained  from 
imbibing  his  full  share  of  the  good  liquor  fur- 
nished by  the  smiling  publican.  Those  were 
good  old  times,  when  every  man  had  a  stomach 
under  his  waistcoat,  for  whose  sake  he  deemed 
it  his  duty  to  drink  a  little  of  something  more 
potent  than  water. 

But  our  fathers  kept  early  hours,  and  so, 
soon  after  the  clock  struck  nine,  Deacon 
Sweeny  and  the  Colonel  started  on  their  way 
homewards.  At  the  Deacon's  gate,  they  paused 
for  a  moment,  and  just  as  the  Colonel  was 
about  to  resume  his  walk,  Mrs.  Axy  appeared 
at  the  door,  and  invited  her  brother  to  come 
into  the  house.  "I  expect,"  said  she,  as  she 
closed  the  door  behind  him  with  a  slam,  and 
casting  a  look  of  wormwood  and  vinegar  at  her 
spouse  ;  "  I  expect  the  Deacon  was  a  goin'  to 
let  you  marvel  right  straight  along  hum,  arter 
all  my  wearin'  myself  out  a  tellin'  him,  over 


TWICE    MARRIED.  149 

and  over  agin,  to  be  sure  and  have  you  step  in 
here  a  minute,  ef  he  found  you  to  the  tavern — 
the  most  kerless  crittur  I " 

"  Come,  come,  Axy,"  cried  the  Colonel,  who, 
since  he  had  paid  the  sixty-five  hundred  dollars, 
often  ventured  to  make  head  against  the  torrent 
of  his  sister's  scolding;  "now,  you  jest  shet 
up,  and  let  the  Deacon  have  a  minute's  peace  ; 
or,  by  jingo !  I'll  clear  out  without  ever  offerin' 
to  set  down." 

To  this  rebuke,  Mrs.  Sweeny,  who  had  an 
especial  reason  why  she  did  not  wish  to  dis- 
please or  irritate  her  brother,  made  no  reply, 
but  discreetly  restrained  her  wrath  ;  though,  as 
the  Deacon  well  knew,  and  trembled  at  the 
consciousness,  it  never  lost  any  of  its  vigor  by 
being  pent  up  in  this  way ;  but,  like  small 
beer,  was  all  the  more  lively,  pungent,  noisy 
and  sparkling,  for  being  bottled  awhile. 

After  Sally  Blake's  unfortunate  successor 
had  brought  in  a  dish  of  Early  G-reening  apples, 
and  a  pitcher  of  brisk  new  cider,  and  then,  in 
obedience  to  a  sharp-toned  command  of  her 
mistress,  had  crept  up,  in  the  dark,  to  her  nest 
in  the  garret,  Mrs.  Sweeny,  without  further 


150  TWICE    MARRIED. 

delay,  brought  forward  for  consideration  the 
subject  of  the  proposed  alliance.  What  was 
afterwards  said  and  done  by  and  between  the 
high  contracting  parties,  in  Deacon  Sweeny's 
presence  and  hearing,  during  the  remainder  of 
the  interview,  it  would  be  tedious  to  relate,  for 
Mrs.  Axy,  when  excited,  could  talk  enough,  in 
the  space  of  ninety  minutes,  to  fill  a  large  oc- 
tavo volume  of  fine  print.  Neither  do  I  think 
it  worth  the  while  to  set  forth  the  earnest  dia- 
logue which  took  place,  when,  on  his  way 
home,  the  Colonel  met  Joab,  returning  in  a  fit 
of  unusual  and  extreme  dejection  from  his 
weekly  courting  visit.  Let  it  suffice  to  say, 
that,  at  parting,  the  uncle  shook  the  nephew  by 
the  hand  with  great  vigor,  and  assured  him,  with 
many  vehement  asseverations,  that  he,  the 
Colonel  himself,  would  do  the  rest  of  the 
courting,  and  would  do  it  in  a  hurry,  too. 

Lucy  was  in  her  mother's  bedroom,  relating, 
with  angry  vivacity,  a  narration  of  the  open 
rupture  which  had  that  evening  been  the  final 
result  of  Joab's  renewed  and  persistent  allusions 
to  the  subject  of  the  wedding.  She  had  just 
finished  the  burden  of  her  story,  and  was  pro- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  151 

ceeding,  according  to  the  custom  of  young 
ladies  in  the  like  circumstances,  to  gratify  her 
pique  and  vexation,  by  coupling  sundry  dispa- 
raging epithets,  denoting  the  absent  Joab,  with 
divers  scornful  and  contumelious  adjectives, 
when  she  heard  her  father's  step  at  the  door. 
A  moment  afterwards  he  entered  the  room.  A 
single  glance  at  his  flushed  and  angry  face  told 
the  two  women  that  the  crisis  had  at  length 
arrived.  Mrs.  Manners,  however,  continued  knit- 
ing  busily,  but  her  keen,  gray  eyes  stealthily 
followed  the  motions  of  her  husband,  as,  with- 
out saying  a  word,  he  pulled  off  his  boots 
with  a  jerk,  and  drew  up  his  arm-chair  to  the 
fire,  with  an  angry  hitch.  Lucy  lit  her  candle, 
and  was  going  to  slip  out  of  the  room,  but  a 
stern,  abrupt  command  from  her  father's  lips, 
stayed  her  trembling  steps.  She  put  down  her 
light  upon  the  table,  and  stood  waiting  with  a 
throbbing  heart  for  the  next  word.  It  was  not 
long  delayed,  for  the  Colonel  was  full  of  his 
subject,  and  the  account  which  he  had  just 
received  from  Joab,  of  the  disdainful  dismissal 
that  Lucy  had  given  his  suit,  artfully  embel- 
lished with  false  or  garbled  reports  of  the  rea- 


152  TWICE    MARRIED. 

sons  therefor  by  her  assigned,  and  of  her  un- 
filial  declarations  of  independence,  had  exaspe- 
rated him  to  a  degree  altogether  unprecedented. 

"  So,  Miss  Lucy,"  said  he,  turning  towards 
her,  "  you  don't  think  the  husband  I've  chosen 
for  you  is  good  enough,  eh  ?  Think  you  know 
better'n  your  old  father,  do  you  ?  Mean  to 
suit  yourself,  whether  your  father,  that  gave 
you  a  bein',  likes  it  or  not,  hey  ?  Come,  let's 
hear  some  of  your  brave  speeches  now.  Jest 
talk  as  promp'  to  me  as  you  did  to  Joab. 
Speak  up,"  continued  the  Colonel,  waxing 
warmer  as  he  went  on ;  "  don't  stand  there  a 
sulkin',  you  little  hussy !  You  expect  to  jilt 
Joab,  don't  ye?" 

"I  don't  love  him,  papa,"  replied  poor  Lucy, 
with  a  quivering  lip  and  imploring  look  at  her 
mother's  calm  face. 

The  Colonel,  with  an  effort,  stifled  a  strong 
inclination  to  open  profanity,  and  then  con- 
tinued in  a  hightened,  sneering  tone.  "  Don't 
love  him,  eh?  He  aint  so  smart  and  slick  as 
them  'are  dandyfied  clarks  and  stoodents  to 
Har'ford,  mebby?  Don't  use  pomatum,  praps. 
Don't  smell  enough  like  a  skunk  to  suit  ye,  eh? 


TWICE    MARRIED.  153 

sich  a  fine  stylish  lady  as  you've  got  to  be,  I 
expect  you're  ashamed  of  your  country  rela- 
tions— old  clod-hopper  of  a  father,  and  all. 
By  jingo !  I  was  a  dumb  fool,  I'm  afraid,  as 
your  aunt  Axy  says,  to  let  you  go  to  that  in- 
fernal school.  I  might  ha'  known  you'd  get 
your  idees  raised  too  high,  and  your  foolish 
little  head  turned  arter  some  smoothily-spoken 
fop  or  other." 

Lucy's  eye  began  to  kindle,  for  she  was  not 
one  of  your  spiritless  damsels,  whose  only  reply 
to  abuse  is  a  flood  of  tears.  She  was  about  to 
retort  in  a  very  undutiful  tone  and  manner, 
but  a  quick  glance  of  reproof  and  warning 
from  her  mother  checked  the  untoward  im- 
pulse, before  it  had  matured  into  action. 

"  Husband,"  began  Mrs.  Manners,  "  let  me 
say  a  word." 

"Well,  say  it," replied  the  Colonel,  who 
entertained  so  profound  a  respect  for  his  wife, 
that  even  when  the  most  angry  and  out  of 
temper,  he  never  ventured  to  speak  to  her 
with  harshness. 

"  I  wish,"  continued  Mrs.  Manners,  pausing 
in  her  knitting;  "  I  wish  that  you'd  let  Lucy 


154  TWICE    MARRIED. 

have  a  little  more  time.  She's  young  yet,  a 
mere  girl,  and  at  present  it  seems  don't  fancy 
Joab  for  a  husband,  but " 

Here  the  good  lady  hesitated,  and  began  to 
knit  again;  and  her  husband,  after  waiting 
decorously  for  her  awhile,  resumed  his  re- 
marks. 

"Betsey,"  said  he,  "  I  must  say  I  never 
heerd  you  talk  so  kind  o'  foolish,  and  little  to 
the  purpose  in  my  life.  I  know  you're  more'n 
half  agin  this  match,  and  I'm  sorry  enough 
you  be,  for  my  heart  is  set  on  it,  my  promise 
is  given,  and  my  mind's  made  up.  As  for 
waitin',  you  know  and  I  know,  'taint  no  use. 
She's  as  old  as  you  was  when  we  was  married, 
and  you've  allus  made  a  good  wife.  The  fact 
is,  delays  is  dangerous,  and  the  gal  won't  be 
no  more  willin'  a  year  from  this  time  than  she 
is  now.  I'll  leave  it  to  her.  Come  now, 
Lucy,  answer,  honor  bright,  would  you  be  ?" 

"  Speak  the  truth,  Lucy,"  said  her  mother. 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Lucy,  stoutly. 

"There,"  cried  the  Colonel;  "what  did  I 
tell  ye  ?  Now  the  fact  is,"  he  continued,  "  the 
fact  is  just  this,  and  there  is  no  gettin'  round  it. 


TWICE    MARRIED.  155 

This  weddin'  has  got  to  take  place  next 
Thanksgivin'  night,  and  'twont  be  a  year 
afore  you'll  both  own  I  was  right.  Lucy  '11 
be  all  reconciled,  and  wouldn't  be  onmarried 
for  a  fortin',  and  the  old  homestead  here  will 
be  goin'  to  be  inherited  by  my  father's  grand- 
children ;  jest  as  he  told  me  on  his  death-bed 
he  wanted  to  have  it.  I've  gin  up  expectin' 
that  it  can  go  in  the  name,  but  it  '11  go  in  the 
blood,  and  my  grand-child  will  be  a  Manners, 
both  on  his  father's  and  mother's  side,  and 
that  will  kind  o'  make  up  for  his  not  havin'  the 
name.  Ef  Lucy  had  jest  been  a  boy  now,  so 
that  it  could  ha'  been  kep  in  the  name,  I 
shouldn't  ha'  been  streuoous,  and  I  wouldn't  ha' 
undertook  to  have  interfered  with  her  choosin' 
sich  a  husband — no — I  mean  wife — as  she'd 
took  a  fancy  for ;  if  so  be  she'd  ha'  chosen  a 
decent  young  feller ;  though,  even  in  that 
case,  I  should  ha'  rather  she'd  ha'  had  Joab ; 
well — no — but — well — I  declare,"  added  the 
Colonel,  after  a  brief  pause,  during  which  he 
had  diligently  rubbed  his  forehead ;  "I  get  it 
out  sort  o'  confused;  but  my  meanin'  's  plain. 
I  can  state  the  upshot  o'  the  matter  middlin' 


156  TWICE    MARRIED. 

quick,"  he  continued,  his  irritation  manifestly 
hightened  by  his  recent  failure  to  express  his 
ideas  with  distinctness;  "and  that's  this.  You 
and  your  cousin  Joab  are  to  be  married  next 
Thanksgivin'  night ;  you  understand  that,  don't 
ye,  Miss  Lucy  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  faltered  Lucy. 

"  And  you're  agoin'  to  mind,  aint  ye,  say?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Lucy,  with  a  sudden 
boldness. 

"Heavens  andairth!  what  do  ye  mean?" 
cried  the  Colonel,  starting  from  his  chair  in 
wrath  and  surprise.  "  Jest  look  a  here, 
Miss " 

"  Husband,"  began  Mrs.  Manners. 

"  I  tell  ye,  Betsey,"  said  the  Colonel,  striv- 
ing to  lower  his  voice  to  a  respectful  key 
while  speaking  to  his  wife  ;  "I  tell  ye,  now, 
don't  interfere.  The  child  is  mine  as  well  as 
yourn,  and  I'm  a  dealin'  with  her  now.  'Taint 
fair,  nor  proper,  nor  best  for  you  to  meddle, 
and  you  musn't.  When  you  begin  fust  you 
shall  have  the  floor,  as  they  say  to  Gin'ral 
Court:  but  now  it's  my  turn,  and  I  raly  do 
wish  you'd  wait  till  it's  fairly  yourn." 


TWICE    MARRIED.  157 

"  Only  don't  be  rash,"  pleaded  the  mother. 

"I  ain't  agoin'  to  be,"  resumed  the  Colonel. 
Nevertheless,  no  sooner  had  he  turned  once 
more  towards  the  fair  rebel,  who,  frightened 
but  resolute,  stood  shrinking  and  cowering 
before  her  father's  fiery  glance,  yet  meeting 
it  with  a  steady,  defiant  look,  than  his  voice 
again  rose  to  an  angry  pitch. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  cried  ,  "  that 
you're  agoin'  to  refuse  to  obey  your  father — 
you — you — ain't  you  agoin'  to  marry  Joab 
when  I  bid  you  to  ?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Lucy,  in  a  low  but 
determined  tone,  "I  don't  love  him,  and  I 
won't  marry  anybody  I  don't  love." 

"  But  you'll  larn  to  love  him,"  said  her  father, 
trying  hard  to  keep  his  temper  within  safe 
bounds,  and  deigning  to  argue  the  case  with 
his  refractory  daughter. 

"  I  hope  not,"  cried  Lucy,  passionately,  for 
she  was  thoroughly  roused.  "  Oh !  I  hope  not. 
It  would  be  dreadful  to  have  a  heart  capable 
of  loving  such  a  creature  !" 

"By !"    cried   the   Colonel,   swearing 

outright   for   the  first   time  in  twenty  years. 
14 


158  TWICE    MARRIED. 

"  There !"  he  added  quite  aghast  at  the  pro- 
fanity. "  Do  you  hear  that  ?  You've  made 
your  father  swear,  you  wicked  child.  The 
Lord  forgive  me !  and  I'm  a  church-member 
and  a  Justice  of  the  Peace!  But  it  shan't  be 
for  nothin',  I  tell  ye  !  I  won't  take  the  Lord's 
name  altogether  in  vain,  for  I  do  solemnly 
swear " 

"  Oh!  hush,  my  dear  husband!"  cried  Mrs. 
Manners,  pale  with  emotion  and  alarm.  But 
her  husband  enjoined  silence  by  an  imperious 
gesture.  "I  do  solemnly  swear,"  he  con- 
tinued, holding  up  his  right  hand,  "  that 
unless  you  marry  with  my  consent — unless  you 
many  your  cousin,  in  this  house,  on  next 
Thanksgivin'  night,  in  my  presence,  I  will 
disown  you  for  a  disobedient  daughter,  and  cut 
you  off  with  a  shillin'  in  my  will — so  help  me 
God!" 

While  the  angry  old  man  was  uttering  his 
oath,  his  wife  sat  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  his 
face,  her  breath  restrained,  her  lips  apart,  a 
very  statue  of  anxious  attention ;  while  Lucy 
stood  before  him,  pale,  erect,  and  rigid ;  and 
no  sooner  had  he  ceased  speaking,  and  her 


TWICE    MARRIED.  159 

mother  had,  with  a  long  breath,  fallen  back  in 
her  chair,  than  she  began  with  flashing  eyes 
and  dilated  nostrils,  "  And  now  hear  me  !"  she 
cried ;  "I  swear,  that  I  will  marry  no  one  else 
than—" 

"Lucy!  Lucy!"  cried  her  mother ;  "stop,  I 
command  you !  Hush  !  hush !"  she  repeated,  as 
the  excited  girl,  after  hesitating  for  an  instant, 
attempted  to  resume  her  speech,  "sit  down!" 
Lucy  obeyed,  and  leaning  her  head  against  the 
side  of  the  bed,  began  to  sob  convulsively. 
Her  mother  stooped  over  her  and  whispered  in 
her  ear.  Meanwhile  the  Colonel,  recovering 
somewhat  from  the  exaltation  of  his  wrath, 
began  both  to  look  and  feel  a  little  foolish  and 
ashamed,  albeit  he  strove  hard  to  keep  his 
anger  hot. 

"  Husband,"  at  last  said  Mrs.  Manners,  still 
keeping  Lucy's  hand  in  hers,  "  you've  taken  a 
very  solemn  oath." 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  the  Colonel,  doggedly. 
"  I  don't  need  to  be  told  on't,  Betsey.  I've 
taken  an  oath,  and  what's  more,  I  mean  to 
keep  it." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it  a  bit,"  continued  his  wife, 


160  TWICE    MARRIED. 

with  an  accent  of  reproach,  that  was  by  no 
means  lost  on  her  husband.  "  I  know  you  too 
well  to  doubt  it." 

"  You  may  be  sure  on't,"  said  the  Colonel ; 
"  and  so  may  Lucy." 

"  An  oath  so  solemn  should  be  recorded," 
resumed  Mrs.  Manners.  "  I  remembe  r  your 
very  words;  for  I  took  care  to  notice  what 
you  said.  I'll  write  'em  out,  and  you  shall 
put  your  name  to  'em." 

"  Poh,  psha !"  said  the  Colonel,  with  a 
sheepish,  sullen  air ;  "  what's  the  use  of  all 
that  ceremony?" 

"  Because,"  said  his  wife,  "  I  intend  that 
Lucy  shall  obey  the  conditions  of  it  to  the 
very  letter.  The  penalty  is  pretty  severe  if 
she  fails ;  nothing  short  of  being  disowned  and 
disinherited." 

At  this  point  Lucy's  sobs  filled  her  father's 
heart  with  anguish.  The  tears  came  into  his 
eyes.  "  All  she's  got  to  do  is  just  to  obey  me, 
and  that's  her  dooty,  you'll  own  yourself,"  said 
he,  with  a  deprecatory  manner. 

"Of  course,  and  I  intend  she  shall j  but  she 
ought  to  have  the  command,  enforced  as  it  is 


TWICE    MARRIED.  161 

with  a  penalty,  and  that  by  an  oath,  fairly 
•written  out.  Come,  you're  not  afraid  to  put 
in  writing  what  you've  uttered  with  your 
tongue." 

"Write  it  out,  then,"  cried  the  Colonel; 
whereupon  his  wife,  after  another  whisper  to 
Lucy,  rose,  went  to  the  desk,  took  a  pen  and 
wrote  a  few  words  upon  a  sheet  of  paper, 
which  she  brought  to  her  husband  on  a  book. 
"  There ;  read  it,"  said  she  j  "  they  are  your 
very  words." 

"  Um — m — m — ,  yes,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"  yes ;  that's  what  I  said,  and  what  I  mean  to 
stick  to." 

"  Sign  it,  then,"  said  his  wife,  handing  the 
pen  to  him. 

The  Colonel  took  the  quill,  and  slowly 
subscribed  his  name.  He  was  not  a  dexterous 
penman ;  the  book  made  but  an  unhandy 
desk  ;  and  he  wrote  without  his  spectacles. 

Meanwhile  his  wife  stood  looking  over  his 
shoulder,  with  a  shrewd  smile  upon  her  lips, 
and  her  gray  eyes  twinkling.  Lucy,  with  her 
face  buried  in  the  bed-clothes,  continued  at 
intervals  to  sob  faintly. 


162  TWICE  MARRIED. 

"There,"  said  the  Colonel,  returning  the 
pen  to  his  wife,  but  carefully  avoiding  at  the 
same  time  to  meet  her  glance. 

"Now,"  said  Mrs.  Manners,  after  she  had 
folded  up  the  paper,  and  put  it  carefully  away 
in  a  drawer  of  the  desk,  "  now,  there's  your  oath 
in  black  and  white,  so  that  some  future  day,  if 
necessary,  we  may  know  just  what  it  calls  for. 
On  my  part,  I  intend  to  do  all  that  I  can  to 
make  Lucy  perform  what  is  therein  required  of 
her  to  the  very  letter." 

"  If  she  will,"  said  the  Colonel,  glancing 
towards  the  bed,  "  there  aint  nothin'  I  won't 
do  for  her." 

"  I  want  you  to  promise,  then,"  said  his  wife, 
"  that  if  she  conforms  to  what  was  written  on 
that  paper,  as  I  shall  try  to  make  her,  you  '11 
forgive  her  for  what's  happened  to-night ;  and 
though  you  may  yourself  be  sorry  for  having 
compelled  her  to  marry  her  cousin,  you'll  not 
blame  her  for  her  strict  observance." 

"  Promise !  of  course  I  do,"  cried  the  Colo- 
nel. 

"  Come,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Manners.  "  Lucy, 
kiss  your  father;  bid  each  other  good  night, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  1G3 

and  then  I'll  go  up  to  bed  with  you,  my 
child." 

Poor  little  Lucy  lifted  her  head  from  the  bed- 
side, with  her  hair  falling  over  her  face,  and  came 
tottering  towards  her  father,  with  a  white  knuc- 
kle in  each  eye.  The  old  gentleman  held  out  his 
arms,  and  Lucy  put  hers  about  his  neck.  He 
kissed  her  wet  cheek,  and  smoothed  down  her 
disordered  curls.  "Love  will  come  with  the 
babies,  Sissie,"  said  he ;  whereat  Lucy  burst 
out  crying  again,  and  was  led  off  up  stairs  to 
her  own  chamber  by  her  mother,  sobbing 
with  redoubled  vehemence. 

"  By  George !"  said  the  Colonel,  talking  to 
himself,  after  the  women  had  got  out  of  hear- 
ing. "  By  George  !"  said  he,  blowing  his  nose, 
and  nodding  his  head  in  a  positive  manner; 
"there's  nothin'  like  bein'  firm  and  decided 
when  you've  got  women  to  deal  with.  I  vow 
I  didn't  expect,  one  spell,  that  Lucy  would  ha' 
gi'n  up  so  quick  and  easy ;  for  she 's  gritty  as 
buckwheat  bran  when  she  gets  her  Ebenezer 
up ;  and  as  for  her  mother,  raally  I  was  afeared 
she'd  take  up  on  her  side  agin  me,  and  there'd 
be  the  Old  Nick  to  pay.  I'm  actilly  tempted 


164  TWICE    MARRIED. 

to  tell  Axy  how  it  came  out  arter  I  put  my  foot 
down,  just  to  shut  her  mouth  when  she  says 
that  Betsey  leads  me  by  the  nose,  and  oilers 
makes  me  do  jest  as  she  wants  to  have  me. 
I'm  the  head  of  my  own  family  yet,  I  guess." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

IF  I  were  to  attempt  a  relation  of  all  that 
happened  between  this  memorable  Sunday 
night  and  the  next  Thanksgiving-day,  my  story, 
which  is,  I  fear,  already  too  long,  would  be 
extended,  by  the  recital,  far  beyond  all  reason- 
able limits.  Albeit  I  cherish  a  modest  hope 
that,  if  I  were  to  describe  some  of  the  events 
which  took  place  in  this  interval,  a  few,  at 
least,  of  my  fair  readers  would  be  thereby 
greatly  entertained.  For  instance,  there  is  the 
journey  to  Hartford,  which  was  performed  in 
the  covered  spring-wagon  by  Lucy  and  her 
mother,  John  Dashleigh  himself  driving  the 
span  of  five-year-old  black  colts ;  the  main  pur- 
pose of  which  was  the  buying  of  Lucy's  wed- 
ding dress  and  other  kindred  matters.  In  the 
space  of  three  days,  the  ladies  expended  the 
sum  of  two  hundred  dollars,  which  had  been 
given  to  Lucy  by  her  fond  father,  in  the  form 
of  a  roll  of  crisp,  rustling,  old  Hartford  bank- 
bills  ;  besides  a  smaller  sum  that  Mrs.  Manners 


166  TWICE    MARRIED. 

had  on  hand  in  her  own  private  purse.  John 
Dashleigh,  also,  ordered  a  handsome  suit  of 
clothes,  which  the  tailor  promised  should  be 
finished,  and  sent  out  in  a  parcel  to  Walbury, 
by  the  post-rider,  in  time  for  the  wedding; 
stipulating,  furthermore,  that  every  garment 
should  fit  like  a  glove.  He  also  went  to  a 
goldsmith's  and  bought  a  plain  gold  ring; 
which,  as  it  was  of  a  very  small  size,  could  not 
have  been  for  his  own  hand,  and,  therefore, 
might  have  been  intended  as  a  present  for  little 
Ellen.  I  might  relate  how  John,  each  after- 
noon during  the  sojourn  in  Hartford,  used  to 
frequent  a  certain  street-corner,  and  walk  back 
and  forth,  behaving  so  strangely,  that  the  peo- 
ple living  in  the  houses  near  by  at  last  fell  in- 
to various  mistakes  with  respect  to  his  charac- 
ter, motives,  and  intentions  ;  some  suspecting 
him  of  lunacy,  while  the  majority  inclined  to 
the  belief  that  he  was  a  burglar,  reconnoitering 
for  a  professional  midnight  enterprise.  I  could 
tell  how  Lucy  visited  her  former  schoolmates 
at  the  Misses  Primber's  seminary ;  how,  in  a 
short  time,  they  all  knew  that  she  was  to  be 
married  on  Thanksgiving  night ;  and  how,  in 


TWICE    MARRIED.  167 

consequence,  she  was  stared  at  by  some  of  the 
younger  girls,  who  strove  to  realize,  as  they 
gazed,  that  the  person  before  them  was  so  very 
soon  to  become  a  bride,  and  to  fancy  how  they 
themselves  would  feel  when  placed  in  similarly 
interesting  circumstances.  I  might  also  relate, 
(for  authors  know  everything,)  the  very  private 
and  confidential  conversation  that  Lucy  held 
with  the  young  lady,  of  whom  honorable  men- 
tion has  heretofore  been  made,  to  wit,  her 
quondam  bedfellow;  but  as  the  young  lady 
herself,  with  a  degree  of  discretion  and  reti- 
cence which  was,  under  the  circumstances, 
most  truly  marvelous,  did  not  betray  the 
secrets  at  that  interview  confided  to  her  keep- 
ing, though  sorely  tempted  so  to  do,  I  should 
be  ashamed  not  to  imitate  so  worthy  an  exam- 
ple. Besides,  I  have  another  reason  for  being 
close-mouthed,  which  the  reader  may  presently 
discover  for  himself. 

Equally  pleasant,  I  trust,  would  it  be  to 
hear  of  the  other  preparations  for  the  wedding 
that  were  constantly  going  on  at  Walbury, 
until  the  house  seemed  turned  topsy-turvy,  and 
there  was  not  a  room,  from  cellar  to  garret,  in 


168  TWICE    MARRIED. 

which  there  was  not  something  to  put  one  in 
mind  of  the  approaching  event.  In  one  cham- 
ber you  would  find  a  quilting-frame,  nearly 
filling  the  space,  surrounded  by  a  hollow  square 
of  women  and  girls,  each  busily  plying  needle 
and  scissors.  In  another,  a  group  of  seam- 
stresses were  perpetually  employed  in  the 
manufacture  of  sheets,  table-cloths,  pillow-cases 
and  all  sorts  of  household  linen.  The  Colonel 
found  himself  an  intruder  even  in  his  own  bed- 
room, where  his  wife  and  daughter  had  fallen 
into  the  habit  of  holding  frequent  consultations 
with  a  fashionably-attired  mantua-maker — 
whom  they  had  fetched  home  with  them  on 
the  back  seat  of  the  spring-wagon,  all  the  way 
from  Hartford — over  the  silks,  laces,  gauzes 
and  ribbons,  with  which  the  bed  and  sofa  were 
continually  bestrewn.  He  could  scarcely  even 
open  the  door  of  this  apartment  without  hear- 
ing a  little  scream  from  Lucy,  who  would  be 
discovered  standing  bare-armed  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor,  in  her  petticoat  and  stays,  with 
Mrs.  Manners  and  the  dressy  mantua-maker 
busily  engaged  in  pinning,  basting,  and  pucker- 
ing curiously  shaped  pieces  of  silk  and  satin 


TWICE    MARRIED.  169 

about  her  bosom  and  waist,  and  little  Ellen 
standing  by,  holding  a  pincussion  or  a  work- 
basket.  The  two  elder  ladies  would  echo 
Lucy's  outcry  ;  the  modish  and  modest  man- 
tua-maker  would  blush  and  giggle,  and  the 
Colonel  would  then  hastily  effect  a  retreat, 
followed  by  a  volley  of  reproaches  and  warnings 
not  to  offend  in  like  manner  again.  As  for 
Lucy's  own  chamber,  it  was  put  under  a  rigor- 
ous taboo,  so  that  every  woman  and  girl  in  the 
household,  who  did  not  enjoy  the  privilege  oi 
entrance,  was  devoured  by  curiosity,  and  the 
whole  feminine  population  of  "Walbury  was 
agitated  by  rumors  of  what  was  contained  in 
this  most  sacred  place.  At  last,  in  the  course 
of  events,  the  bustle  of  preparation  invaded  and 
overran  the  kitchen.  Then  might  have  been 
seen  the  mistress  of  the  mansion  and  her  trusty 
lieutenant,  the  Widow  Dashleigh,  standing 
with  bare  arms  and  floury  faces,  taking  counsel 
together,  comparing  notes  with  respect  to  the 
mysterious  rites  and  ceremonies  to  be  observed 
in  the  compounding  of  certain  kinds  of  cake, 
diligently  studying  together  greasy  manuscript 

recipes,  and  anon  giving  forth  their  orders  to 
Jo 


170  TWICE    MARRIED. 

the  corps  of  subordinates,  which  consisted — 
besides  an  irregular  volunteer  force — of  Susan 
Peet,  and  Daphne,  or  Aunt  Daffy,  as  she  was 
usually  called,  an  ancient  negress,  the  well- 
beloved  consort  of  old  Tite :  whose  reputation 
as  a  most  skillful  cook  had  extended  far  beyond 
the  circumvallating  hills  which  formed  the 
limit  of  her  native  Niptuck  valley,  and  spread 
even  into  the  most  remote  corners  of  "VYmdham 
county. 

For  three  days  before  Thanksgiving,  the 
cavernous  depths  of  the  capacious  oven  were 
in  a  constant  glow.  The  broad  kitchen  dress- 
ers were  covered  with  rows  of  pies  and  loaves 
of  cake,  some  waiting  their  turn  at  the  oven, 
and  others,  which,  having  undergone  the  fiery 
trial,  had  been  placed  there  to  cool  and  suffer 
inspection,  before  being  borne  away  to  the  but- 
tery and  store-room.  The  thumping  of  rolling- 
pins,  the  din  of  pestles  pounding  aromatic 
herbs  and  pungent  spices  in  ringing  mortars, 
the  grating  of  nutmegs  and  loaf  sugar, 
the  bubbling  of  simmering  sauces  and  sweet- 
meats, and  the  luscious  sound  of  eggs  beaten 
to  a  foam  in  china  bowls,  mingled  with  the  ex- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  171 

piring  cries  of  chickens  and  turkeys,  suffering 
the  pains  of  decapitation,  at  the  wood-pile  in 
the  back  door-yard. 

And,  if  it  were  not  for  the  sufficient  reasons 
hereinbefore  set  forth,  I  might  go  on  to  relate 
the  doings  of  the  expectant  bridegroom,  and  of 
his  worthy  parents,  during  this  intervening 
time.  Joab  experienced  much  relief  at  having 
the  annoyance  and  trouble  of  courting  taken 
off  his  hands  by  the  Colonel ;  and  instead  of 
wasting  his  time,  as  some  foolish  lovers  would 
have  done,  in  running  up  to  hinder  Lucy  in 
her  preparations,  as  often  as  he  could  invent 
excuses  for  it,  he  restricted  his  visits,  as  hither- 
to, to  Sunday  evening  calls  of  exemplary  brevi- 
ty. His  week-day  leisure  he  employed  chiefly 
in  watching  the  workmen  who  were  busy  about 
repairing  the  house,  in  which  it  had  been  ar- 
ranged by  the  elders  the  new  married  couple 
should  commence  the  world  upon  their  own 
account.  It  was  a  large,  gloomy,  old-fashioned 
mansion,  which  had  lately  fallen  into  the  Dea- 
con's possession  by  the  foreclosure  of  a  mort- 
gage ;  and  there  was  a  dismal  air  of  decay  and 


172  TWICE    MARRIED. 

dilapidation  about  it,  which  might  have  been 
the  reason  why  Lucy,  of  late,  could  never  pass 
by  it  without  a  shudder.  In  many  places  the 
paint  was  worn  quite  through  at  the  edges  of 
clapboards  and  other  exposed  points ;  the 
spouts  and  gutters  were  bent  awry,  and  choked 
with  leaves  and  rubbish  ;  one  of  the  chimney- 
tops  had  been  blown  off  in  a  gale,  and  the 
bricks  and  mortar  were  scattered  abroad  on  the 
mossy  roof;  the  spiders  had  spun  great  cob- 
webs on  the  closed  window-blinds  ;  and  there 
was  a  hornets'  nest  of  immense  size  that  cover- 
ed half  the  fan-light.  The  front  wicket  was 
unhinged  and  broken,  and  a  gravel  walk  ex- 
tended from  it  to  the  door-steps,  between  bor- 
ders of  mildewed  box  and  a  double  row  of 
scraggy  poplars.  But  this  house  stood  conve- 
niently near  Deacon  Sweeny's  own  dwelling 
and  store  ;  there  was  a  traditional  savor  of 
gentility  and  rank  still  lurking  in  its  damp 
and  musty  apartments,  because  its  owners  and 
residents  for  generations,  until  of  late,  had  been 
a  family  of  wealth  and  condition ;  and  Mrs. 
Axy  averred,  that,  with  a  few  dollars  laid  out 


TWICE    MARRIED.  173 

upon  it  in  the  way  of  general  repairs,  papering, 
and  painting,  it  would  be  fit  for  a  king  and 
queen  to  live  in. 

Joab,  also,  had  ordered  a  wedding  suit  of  the 
very  tailor  who  had  been  employed  to  make 
John's  new  raiment;  and  the  two  bundles 
were  brought  out  together  in  the  post-rider's 
wagon,  and  duly  delivered  by  that  functionary 
to  their  respective  proprietors.  Even  the  Dea- 
con, at  the  instigation  of  his  wife,  cut  off,  with 
a  sigh  of  regret,  a  scant  pattern  from  a  piece 
of  cheap  black  broadcloth ;  from  which,  after 
much  profound  calculation,  the  village  tailor- 
ess  ingeniously  contrived  to  construct  a  coat ; 
for  which  service  she  stipulated  in  advance  to 
take  store  pay.  This  garment,  which  was  a 
master-piece  of  skill  in  the  way  of  elaborate 
piecing,  the  Deacon  used  to  wear  on  Sundays 
only,  until  some  ten  years  afterwards  he  went 
to  meeting  for  the  last  time.  Mrs.  Axy  bor- 
rowed, for  a  day,  the  dressy  mantua-maker  from 
Hartford,  of  her  sister-in-law,  and  had  fitted  to 
her  spare  form  a  gown  of  black  silk,  which  was 
so  stiff  that  it  would  almost  stand  alone. 
The  expenses  which  were  occasioned  by  thesn 


174:  TWICE    MARRIED. 

and  other  preparations  for  the  wedding,  caused 
the  good  Deacon  several  grievous  twinges, 
the  violence  of  which  was,  however,  a  good 
deal  allayed  by  his  observing  that  the  young 
women  of  the  village,  being  moved  thereto  by 
the  prospect  of  an  invitation  to  the  wedding 
party,  increased  their  custom  at  his  counter  to 
an  unusual  extent.  Indeed,  the  mere  profits  on 
the  goods  purchased  by  Mrs.  Manners  and  her 
messengers  alone,  he  found,  after  a  careful 
reckoning,  would  more  than  reimburse  the  cost 
of  all  the  new  wedding  garments  of  his  wife 
and  himself. 

Meanwhile,  Colonel  Manners  found  frequent 
occasion  for  rejoicing  and  self-gratulation,  on 
account  of  the  firmness  and  decision  which  had 
characterized  his  conduct  on  the  Sunday  night 
after  the  reading  of  the  governor's  proclamation. 
The  salutary  effect  of  his  resolute  behavior, 
surpassed  even  his  own  hopes.  He  had,  indeed, 
expected  obedience  ;  but,  at  the  best,  obedi- 
ence rendered  not  without  occasional  tears,  re- 
pinings  and  fits  of  sullen  reluctance  ;  whereas, 
it  came  to  pass  that,  since  the  time  Lucy  had 
been  led  to  her  own  chamber  weeping  and  sob 


TWICE    MARRIED.  175 

bing  by  her  mother,  he  had  never  seen  her  when 
she  seemed  to  be  at  all  unhappy  or  dispirited. 
To  be  sure,  once  or  twice,  he  caught  her  looking 
at  him  with  a  strange,  apprehensive  expression, 
which  he  was  at  a  loss  to  interpret.  "The 
child's  afeard  of  me,  poor  thing,"  thought  he, 
with  a  pang ,  "  I  was  a  leetle  too  vi'lent, 
p'raps.  Well,  never  mind  ;  ef  she  lives  she'll 
find,  I  guess,  that  I  don't  love  her  any  less  than 
her  mother ;  only  for  now,  I  reckon,  it's  best 
to  keep  along  pretty  middlin'  stiff.  Ef  I  hadn't 
ha'  ben  considerable  perpendic'lar  she'd  ha' 
never  gi'n  in  so  dosyle." 

But  though  my  heroine,  who  is  going  to  be 
married  so  soon,  deserves,  and  must  of  course 
receive,  the  greater  share  of  my  attention,  I 
cannot  find  it  in  my  heart  to  forget  and  neglect 
wholly  my  poor  hero,  John  Dashleigh.  During 
this  interval,  he  grew  more  rapidly  than  ever 
in  the  good  graces  of  his  uncle,  who  could  not 
fail  to  observe  how  strenuously  his  head-man 
exerted  himself  to  win  his  approbation.  "  A 
faithfuler  cretur,"  said  the  Colonel  to  his  wife, 
the  night  before  Thanksgiving,  as  the  pair 
were  getting  ready  for  bed  ;  "  a  faithfuler  ere- 


176  TWICE    MARRIED. 

tur  don't  live  on  the  footstool.  .  He's  wuth  any 
two  men,  on  a  farm,  I  ever  see ;  and  that's 
saying  a  good  deal,  for  Andrew  was  a  fust-rate 
of  a  hand.  Next  year,  by  jingo,  I'll  give  him  a 
chance  that'll  help  him  to  have  a  farm  of  his 
own,  long  enough  before  I  shall  want  to  spare 
him.  Ef  anything,  I  do  believe  he  tries  too 
hard  to  suit  me,  and  actilly,  sometimes,  from 
the  boy's  looks,  I  consait  he's  kind  o'  feard  of 
me." 

"  I  expect,"  added  the  Colonel,  after  a  fit  of 
musing,  "  I  expect  he  feels  under  obligation 
to  me,  for  having  helped  his  father  in  years 
gone  by;  and  it  ain't,  to  be  sure,  no  bad  trait 
in  him  ;  but  I  declare,  actilly,  I  do  hate  to 
have  anybody  round  a-feeling  too  grateful.  It 
makes  a  fellow  feel  sort  o'  choky  and  uncom- 
fortable. And  there  ain't  no  need  of  his  think- 
in'  he  owes  me  anything  for  what's  past 
and  gone,  for  by  gracious !'  wasn't  John  Dash- 
leigh  my  brother-in-law  before  he  was  ever 
this  John's  father  ?  and  hadn't  I  a  right  to 
help  him  keep  out  ef  jail,  on  my  own  ac- 
count?" 

As  the  good  Colonel  concluded  this  solilo- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  177 

quy,  and  was  again  gazing  fixedly  at  the  glow- 
ing coals  in  the  fire-place,  wherein  he  saw,  in 
fancy,  the  features  of  the  dead  Sheriff  Dash- 
leigh,  he  was  suddenly  alarmed  and  amazed  by 
having  his  wife  come  to  him  in  her  night-cap 
and  night-gown,  throw  her  arms  about  his 
neck,  and  burst  into  a  fit  of  passionate  weep- 
ing. 

"  Good  Gracious !  Betsey!"  he  cried,  as  soon 
as  he  could  find  a  voice — "  why — what  on 
airth — do  shet  up  a  minit  and  tell  me  what's 
the  matter !  Have  ye  heerd  of  anybody's 
bein'  dead?" 

"  N-no,"  cried  Mrs.  Manners  between  her 
sobs,  "  b-b-but— " 

"  Well,  there  !  ef  I  ever,  now  !"  said  the 
Colonel,  as  this  effort  at  explanation  resulted 
in  more  incoherent  utterances  and  renewed 
sobs.  He  was,  withal,  somewhat  incommoded 
by  the  strictness  of  the  embrace,  in  which  his 
wife  still  continued  to  hold  him.  A  good- 
natured  man,  like  Colonel  Manners,  will,  how- 
ever, suffer  an  inconvenience  of  this  nature, 
to  the  verge  of  endurance,  without  com- 
plaint. "  Can't  ye  kind  o'  tell  me  what's  the 


17S  TWICE  MARRIED. 

matter,  Betsy  ?"  said  he  at  last,  when  the  first 
violence  of  the  sobbing  began  to  subside. 

"  You  are  the  b-best  husband  in  the  world," 
cried  the  lady,  "  too — too — g-good  for  me  !" 

"  Well,  well ;  sposin'  I  be,"  rejoined  the 
Colonel,  "that  ain't  nothing  to  cry  for,  sartinly. 
Howsever,  I  ain't  no  sich  a  thing,  and  if  I  was 
I  ort  to  be ;  for  raly,  Betsy,  you're  about  as 
good  a  wife  as  a  man  ever  had !" 

"You'll  forgive  me,  won't  you?"  persisted 
his  wife ;  "  say  you  will !" 

"  Forgive  you !"  repeated  the  Colonel,  "  why 
ef  I've  got  anything  to  forgive,  to  be  sure  I 
will,  with  all  my  heart ;  but  I  ain't  got  nothin'. 
There,  set  upon  my  knee,  like  old  times  you 
know — there — sweetheart,  there,"  he  contin- 
ued soothingly,  as  he  put  his  arm  about  her 
waist,  and  kissed  her  fondly.  "  You  see,  you've 
worked  so  hard  a  gettin'  ready  for  the  weddin', 
you've  got  all  tuckered  out  and  narvousy." 

"  Husband,"  cried  Mrs.  Manners,  suddenly, 
"I  want  you  to  promise  me  one  thing — that 
whatever  may  happen,  no  matter  how  much 
cause  you  may  think  you  have  to  be  angry 
with  me,  you  won't  say  a  harsh  or  unkind 


TWICE    MARRIED.  179 

word  to  me,  in  a  haste.  You  never  have  yet," 
she  continued,  beginning  to  cry  afresh,  "in  all 
our  living  together,  you  never  have  yet :  and 
if  you  ever  should,  it  would  break  my  heart ; 
for  if  either  of  us  should  be  taken  away,  I  want 
to  have  it  to — s-say — "  and  here  the  good  lady 
fairly  broke  down,  and  wept  amain. 

"Don't  now— don't — don't — oh!  don't  now!" 
exhorted  the  Colonel. 

"P-promise  me,"  sobbed  his  wife,  "you 
won't,  will  you." 

"  Why  o'  course  not,"  cried  the  Colonel,  with 
great  emphasis,  in  order  to  conceal  a  sympa- 
thetic quavering  that  began  to  infect  his  own 
voice,  "  taint  likely — ahem — arter  we've  lived 
together  nigh  on  to  twenty-one  year,  that  I'm 
goin'  to  begin  to  abuse  you  for  the  fust  time." 

"  For  one  great  reason  for  my  doing  as  I 
have  and  shall,"  continued  Mrs.  Manners,  "  is 
a-thinking  of  how  much  happier  you'd  be  for 
it,  if  I  should  die  and  leave  you,  than " 

"Why!  Betsey!"  cried  the  Colonel,  sorely 
wounded  by  this  speech,  "  what  do  you  mean 
by  I'd  be  happier  if  you  should  die  ? — raly 
that's  unkind." 


180  TWICE    MARRIED. 

"No,  no,"  said  his  wife;  "I  don't  mean 
that ;  I  mean — ,  but  I  can't  tell  you  what ; — 
to-morrow  night  I'll  tell  you — or  some  time ; 
I — I'm  sort  of  addled  to-night,  I  do  believe," 
she  continued,  trying  to  smile. 

"Well,  well;  I  shouldn't  wonder; — you're 
so  tired,"  said  the  Colonel,  kindly ;  "  so  let's  go 
to  bed  and  get  a  good  night's  rest,  for  to-mor- 
row '11  be  a  busy  day." 

"  Pretty  soon,"  replied  his  wife,  leaning  her 
head  against  his  shoulder. 

"  Actilly,"  said  the  Colonel,  after  a  pause,  as 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  himself  and  his  wife 
over  her  shoulder,  in  the  looking-glass  ;  "  any- 
body to  see  us  would  calkilate  we  was  a  young 
couple  a  sparkin'  on't  instead  of  old  married 
folks  with  a  darter  just  a-goin'  to  be  married 
herself." 

Presently  Mrs.  Manners  kissed  her  husband, 
and,  jumping  off  from  his  knee,  ran  and  got  in- 
to bed,  whither  the  Colonel  soon  followed  her. 
They  both  lay  for  a  long  time  wide  awake, 
each  feigning  to  be  asleep,  and  each  deceived 
by  the  other's  artifice ;  the  husband  wondering 
greatly  what  could  have  been  the  cause  of  his 


TWICE    MARRIED.  181 

wife's  recent  emotion  and  singular  conduct, 
and  feeling  a  good  deal  disturbed  and  uneasy 
lest  it  might  have  been  a  presentiment  of  speedy 
death.  "I've  heerd  of  sich  forewarnins," 
thought  he,  "but  I  hope  that  this  ain't  one 
of  'em." 

At  last  his  wife,  raising  herself  on  her  elbow, 
leaned  over  and  kissed  him  softly  two  or  three 
times.  The  Colonel  affected  to  be  unconscious 
of  these  caresses,  and  kept  his  eyes  closed; 
though,  after  his  wife  had  lain  down  again, 
there  came  such  a  moisture  into  them  that 
he  was  obliged  to  wipe  them  slyly  with  a 
corner  of  the  sheet.  "I  shouldn't  want  to 
live  a  minute,  ef  she  should  be  taken  away," 
thought  he.  "Speak  hash  to  her!  I'd  as  soon 
think  o'  puttin'  my  own  eyes  out." 

But,  good  man,  like  honest  Peter  of  old,  he 
little  knew  of  the  sore  temptation  that  was 

so  soon  to  beset  him. 
16 


CHAPTER    IX. 

WHEN  Lucy  awoke  on  the  morning  of  Thanks- 
giving Day,  her  heart  gave  a  bound  in  her 
bosom,  with  the  shock  of  asudden  conscious- 
ness that  her  wedding  day  had  dawned  at  last. 
She  dreaded  to  rise  and  begin  the  day  in  which 
such  great  events  and  momentous  changes 
were  to  happen.  So,  as  it  was  yet  early  in 
the  morning,  she  lay  still  in  bed  for  awhile, 
striving  to  realize  that  it  was  actually,  veri- 
tably true,  that  she,  she  herself,  Lucy  Man- 
ners, whom  she  remembered  but  a  little  while 
ago  \vaking  in  the  same  chamber,  and  in  the 
very  same  little  white  bed,  thinking  how  to 
contrive  a  dress  for  a  doll,  or  to  arrange  a 
plan  for  spending  a  holiday,  that  was  now 
grown  to  be  a  woman,  so  very  soon  to  become 
a  wife. 

It  is  a  great  pity,  that,  because  there  are 
naughty-minded  people  in  the  world — some  of 
whom,  by-the-by,  would  be  the  very  first  to 
cry  out  fie — it  has  been  made  necessary  to 


TWICE    MARRIED.  183 

prescribe  certain  rules  of  conventional  deco- 
rum, which  forbid  me  to  tell  what  a  charming 
object  was  our  dear  Lucy,  as  she  lay  that 
morning  in  her  virgin  bed  for  the  last  time, 
while  her  brain  was  busy  with  these  and  simi- 
lar thoughts  and  reminiscences,  and  her  heart, 
filled  with  an  emotion  of  mingled  hope,  fear, 
and  anxiety,  was  fluttering  in  her  white  bosom 
like  a  frightened  bird  in  a  cage.  If,  with  an 
author's  license,  I  could  open  the  door  of 
Lucy's  chamber,  and  permit  you  only,  my 
pure-minded  reader,  to  peep  in  and  behold 
the  unsullied  maiden  who  was  its  tenant,  and 
to  share  her  innocent  thoughts  and  fancies, 
I  should  be  heartily  glad  to  accord  to  you  the 
privilege ;  but,  I  know  full  well  that  some 
prying,  prudish  old  maid  or  other  would  be 
sure  to  stand  behind  you  on  tip-toe,  looking 
over  your  shoulder,  and  then  go  about  tattling 
and  shaking  her  head  for  a  month  afterwards. 
Or,  still  worse,  some  corrupt  debauchee  or 
wicked  rake  would  steal  the  opportunity  to 
gaze,  with  gloating  eyes,  upon  a  scene  too 
holy  to  be  polluted  by  his  evil  glance.  I  will 


184  TWICE    MARRIED. 

not  suffer  such  a  risk,  and  you,  my  gracious 
reader,  will  smile  a  pardon. 

But  there  is  no  reason  why,  if  anybody 
would  like  to  know  how  Joab  was  employed 
on  the  morning  of  the  day  fixed  for  his  wed- 
ding, this  curiosity  should  not  be  gratified. 
Like  Lucy,  her  expectant  husband  woke  early, 
and,  as  was  not  usual  with  him,  he,  too,  lay 
awhile  before  getting  up ;  for,  the  governor's 
proclamation  having  forbidden  all  "vain  recrea- 
tion, business,  and  servile  labor,"  upon  this 
secular  Sabbath,  it  was  not  necessary  to  open 
and  sweep  out  the  store  before  breakfast, 
according  to  the  usual  week-day  custom.  The 
reflection  which,  of  all  others,  gave  Joab  the 
greatest  pleasure,  was,  that,  before  the  dawn 
of  another  day,  he  would  be  the  real  heir 
apparent  to  all  the  wealth  of  his  rich  uncle, 
the  Colonel.  "  He  ain't  wuth  less  than  a  cool 
fifty  thousand,"  thought  Joab.  "  Half  on't, 
certain,  in  money  at  interest  and  bank  stock,  and 
other  personal  property ;  two-thirds  of  which 
will  be  mine,  my  own,  jist  as  soon  as  the  estate 
is  settled  and  distributed ;  and  if  the  old  woman 


TWICE    MARRIED.  185 

dies,  I  have  the  whole.  The  use  of  the  real 
estate,  except  the  widow's  third,  will  be  mine, 
too,  by  law ;  and  I'd  like  to  see  that  little  pert 
of  a  Lucy  refuse,  after  the  old  Colonel  is  out 
of  the  way,  to  sign  any  deed  I  ask  her  to, 
if  I  please  to  take  measures  to  get  it  all  into 
my  own  hands.  I'll  pay  her  for  her  high  airs  as 
soon  as  Uncle  Starr  drops  off,  and  her  stuck- 
up  mother,  too.  By  gosh !"  said  Joab  aloud, 
who  hadn't  the  manliness  to  swear  outright, 
even  when  alone ;  "  by  gosh !  I'm  willin'  the 
old  fool  should  live  a  widow  a  spell,  and 
have  her  thirds,  ef  she  wouldn't  spend  the 
principal,  jest  while  I  pay  her  off  for  the  spite 
she  all  us  had  agin  me." 

As  Joab  concluded  this  amiable  soliloquy, 
he  heard  his  mother's  voice  calling  out  to  him 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  "  Come,  my  son," 
cried  the  old  lady,  who  was  in  high  spirits, 
"  get  up  and  come  down  right  away.  You 
wont  have  me  to  call  you  to-morrow  morning, 
Joby."  So  Joab,  thrusting  first  one  long, 
lean,  spindling  leg  from  underneath  the  cover- 
let, and  then  its  fellow,  gave  a  yawn  and  a 


186  TWICE  MARRIED. 

stretch,  and  got  up.  "  There  ain't  no  need  o' 
fixin'  up  any  till  after  breakfast,"  said  he ; 
and,  having  put  on  his  pantaloons  and  stock- 
ings, he  went  to  the  window.  It  was  a  bright, 
sunshiny  morning,  and  the  quiet  village  street 
was  as  still  as  Sunday.  There  were  two  or 
three  red-nosed  idlers  grouped  about  the  door 
of  the  tavern,  coughing  and  spitting  after 
taking  their  morning  drams,  while  their  lean 
curs,  too  low-spirited  for  play,  were  moodily 
exchanging  growling  salutations  under  the  elm 
tree  in  front,  bristling  their  manes  and  scratch- 
ing the  dried  herbage  with  their  hind  paws. 
Except  these  no  living  thing  appeared  abroad. 
Joab  turned  from  the  window,  finished  dress- 
ing himself,  hurried  down  to  the  back  stoop, 
where,  after  filling  an  iron  skillet  with  a  pint 
of  rain  water  from  a  hogshead  at  the  corner, 
he  laved  his  face  and  hands ;  finishing  his 
morning  toilet  by  the  use  of  one  of  a  pair  of 
penny  wooden  combs,  which  he  was  accustom- 
ed to  carry  in  his  trowsers  pocket.  Then  he 
went  in  with  a  good  appetite  to  a  breakfast 
which,  as  it  was  Thanksgiving  morning,  was 


TWICE    MARRIED.  187 

rather  more  toothsome  than  the  victuals  that 
usually  were  spread  upon  the  Deacon's  frugal 
table. 

In  the  meanwhile,  John  Dashleigh,  rising 
betimes,  had  seen  to  the  feeding  and  milking 
of  his  herd  of  cows ;  had,  with  his  own  hands, 
groomed  and  watered  his  span  of  black  colts, 
and  had  then  gone  in  to  breakfast  at  the 
Colonel's  table ;  for  Mrs.  Dashleigh,  during  the 
hurry  of  this  busy  Thanksgiving  week,  was 
too  useful  a  person  to  be  spared  from  the 
great  house ;  and  so  John,  of  late,  had  taken 
all  his  meals  there.  I  wonder  that  the  Colonel 
did  not  notice  how  both  John  and  Lucy 
blushed  when  they  met  each  other  that  morn- 
ing. As  for  Lucy  she  was  as  rosy  as  the 
brilliant  clouds  that  streaked  the  orient  sky 
beyond  the  hills,  over  whose  tops  the  sun  had 
just  risen.  It  was  lucky  for  them  that  the 
unsuspecting  Colonel  was  not  an  astute  inter- 
preter of  the  signs  of  love ;  for  so  plainly  did 
John's  honest  face  reveal  the  secret  of  his 
heart,  whenever  he  looked  towards  Lucy,  that 
Mrs.  Manners  was  in  a  fever  of  anxiety  lest 
her  husband  should  detect  it;  and,  as  soon  as 


188  TWICE    MARRIED. 

breakfast  was  over,  she  took  her  nephew  apart 
and  administered  a  wholesome  lesson  of  re- 
proof and  caution.  "  Get  ready  and  go  to 
meeting,  out  of  the  way,  this  forenoon,"  said 
she,  "and  at  dinner-time,  do  for  the  land's 
sake,  just  eat  your  victuals  and  look  at  the 
pictures  on  your  plate,  or  anything,  but  don't 
keep  staring  at  Lucy  so.  Your  uncle  will 
suspect  something,  and  actually,  John,  it 
scares  me  to  see  you  look  so  as  if  you  wanted 
to  eat  her  up.  Ah !  John,  John ;  I  thought 
you  were  a  modest,  bashful  boy;  but,  after 
all,  you've  got  more  of  your  poor  father  about 
you  than  his  looks,  I'm  afraid." 

And  now,  it  being  the  eleventh  hour  of  the 
morning,  throughout  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  Niptuck  valley,  throughout  the  county 
of  Windham  withal,  nay,  throughout  the  whole 
extent  of  the  State  of  Connecticut,  was  heard 
the  merry  sound  of  ringing  bells ;  while,  borne 
upward  with  the  wreaths  of  smoke  from  every 
fuming  kitchen  chimney-top,  rose  fragrant 
steams  and  exhalations,  so  that  everywhere  the 
frosty  air  was  full  of  chiming  melodies,  and  the 
delicious  odors  of  the  oven  and  the  spit.  The 


TWICE    MARRIED.  189 

sturdy  freemen  of  the  commonwealth,  banished 
from  their  firesides  by  their  busy  housewives, 
assembled  at  the  meeting-houses;  while  the 
good  dames  themselves  remained  at  home,  ab- 
sorbed in  culinary  cares.  Even  Mrs.  Sweeny's 
accustomed  place  in  her  pew  was  that  morning 
vacant ;  and,  indeed,  the  Deacon,  her  husband, 
although  he  started  in  good  time,  did  not  arrive 
at  the  door  of  the  sanctuary  until  the  benedic- 
tion had  been  pronounced  by  Parson  Graves, 
and  the  younger  portion  of  his  impatient  and 
hungry  congregation  had  begun  to  effect  their 
tumultuous  escape. 

It  happened  that  the  Deacon,  on  his  way  to 
meeting,  while  passing  the  tavern,  had  been 
accosted  by  the  landlord  ;  who,  standing  at  the 
bar-room  door  and  winking  with  elaborate  sly- 
ness, had  informed  him  that  one  Apollos  Swift 
was  in  the  house,  warming  himself  at  the  back- 
parlor  fire,  and  waiting  to  see  Deacon  Sweeny. 
"  I've  ben  a  watchin'  for  ye,  Deacon,"  said  the 
landlord,  "for  he's  in  a  desputfret,  and  ye  must 
come  in  and  see  him,  ef  it's  ony  for  a  minute. 
Tell  ye,  he's  purty  hard  up,  I  guess!" 

At  this  intelligence,  the  withered  old  muscle 


190  TWICE    MARRIED. 

in  Deacon  Sweeny's  bosom  gave  a  flutter  against 
his  ribs,  and  his  little  red  eyes  emitted  a  tran- 
sient, twinkling  gleam  of  satisfaction.  Apollos 
Swift  was  a  spendthrift  jockey  farmer,  residing 
in  the  neighboring  county  town,  whose  neces- 
sities had  often  compelled  him,  from  time  to 
time,  to  borrow  money  from  the  Deacon ;  and, 
in  fact,  whose  present  errand  in  Walbury  was 
to  effect  still  another  loan,  and  to  secure  its 
repayment  by  still  another  mortgage  upon  his 
homestead  farm,  already  pledged  to  Deacon 
Sweeny  for  nearly  half  its  worth.  The  Deacon 
had,  for  some  time,  been  expecting  this  final 
application ;  and,  indeed,  had  put  aside  a  suffi- 
cient sum  of  money  wherewith  to  meet  it. 
"Another  five  hundred,"  thought  he,  as  he 
counted  over  the  roll  of  bills,  and  laid  it  away 
in  a  snug  pigeon  hole  of  his  desk,  "  another  five 
hundred  and  Swift  '11  be  in  tu  deep  ever  tu  git 
out  again.  Let  the  interest  run  a  spell,  and 
then,  some  time,  when  times  are  purty  tight, 
jest  foreclose,  and  the  fust  anybody  knows,  I'll 
have  a  farm  in  Windham  that  won't  ha'  cost 
me  but  a  little  more'n  half  what  I  can  git  for't.  " 
So,  though  the  bell  had  already  begun  to  toll, 


TWICE     MARRIED.  191 

the  Deacon  turned  aside,  and  followed  the 
landlord  into  the  bar-room.  "I  shall  jest  have 
to  go  in  I  s'pose,"  said  he  to  the  publican, 
"  and  tell  the  feller  I  can't  do  no  business 
to-day,  though,  to  be  sure,  arter  all,  'tain't  as 
ef  'twas  Sunday  exactly;  and  talking  over 
business,  when  you  don't  do  none,  ain't  neither 
servile  labor,  nor  vain  recreation." 

U0h!  of  course  'tain't!"  said  the  landlord, 
opening  the  door  to  the  back-parlor,  whereby 
Mr.  Apollos  Swift  was  discovered,  with  his  feet 
cocked  upon  the  top  of  the  fire-frame,  and  with 
his  head  thrown  back,  in  the  act  of  draining 
the  last  dregs  of  a  monstrous  mug  of  flip. 
When,  more  than  an  hour  afterwards,  the  back- 
parlor  door  was  again  opened,  and  Deacon 
Sweeny  came  forth  to  resume  his  walk  towards 
the  meeting-house,  he  had  promised  Apollos 
Swift  to  lend  him,  upon  the  morrow,  another 
five  hundred  dollars,  and  had  furthermore  stipu- 
lated and  agreed  to  sell,  and  convey  to  him, 
by  proper  and  legal  conveyances  and  assur- 
ances in  the  law,  for  the  consideration  of  fifty 
dollars,  cash,  to  be  paid  in  hand,  two  roods  of 
land ;  the  same  being  six  building  lots,  each 


192  TWICE    MARRIED. 

duly  numbered,  fronting  upon  Main  street,  in 
the  city  of  Sweenopolis,  which  at  that  time,  as 
at  the  present  writing,  consisted  of  an  exten- 
sive ledge  of  rocks,  pleasantly  situated  upon 
the  western  slope  of  the  Alleghany  Mountains, 
in  the  ancient  commonwealth  of  Virginia,  dis- 
tant, at  least,  twenty  miles  from  any  dwelling 
of  civilized  man,  and  densely  populated  by  an 
active,  thriving  population  of  ten  thousand 
rattlesnakes.  The  tract  of  five  hundred  acres, 
upon  which  the  city  of  Sweenopolis  wras  laid 
out,  the  Deacon  had,  at  first,  taken  in  payment 
of  a  bad  debt.  Nevertheless,  it  had  proved  +o 
be  a  most  valuable  piece  of  property.  He  pro 
cured  the  school-master  to  make  a  plan  of 
the  city,  and  after  that  few  people  borrowed 
money  of  Deacon  Sweeny,  who  were  not,  at 
the  same  time,  persuaded  to  invest  a  small  por- 
tion of  the  loan  in  the  purchase  of  a  building 
lot.  An  old  saddle,  that  before  that  time 
always  lay  under  the  desk,  and  which  had  been 
sold  over  and  over,  five  hundred  times,  at  all 
sorts  of  prices,  was  removed,  a  worthless  piece 
of  lumber,  to  the  garret,  and  was  never  sold 
again.  But  the  gossips  said,  that  ten  years 


TWICE    MARRIED.  193 

later,  when  Apollos  Swift  finally  gave  up  the 
ghost,  a  drunken  pauper  in  Windhara  poor- 
house,  he  was  the  owner  in  fee  simple  of  two 
acres  of  land,  which  lay  in  the  very  heart  of 
the  city  of  Sweenopolis,  adjoining  the  public 
square. 

Deacon  Sweeny  and  Mr.  Swift  had  been  so 
very  busy  arranging  the  terms  and  conditions 
of  these  several  inchoate  contracts,  that  the 
time  had  slipped  by  unheeded.  Besides,  Par- 
son Graves,  with  the  prospect  before  him  of  a 
Thanksgiving  dinner,  was  not  so  lengthy  in 
prayer  and  sermon  as  of  a  Sunday.  When, 
therefore,  the  Deacon,  after  a  hasty  walk, 
arrived  in  sight  of  the  meeting-house,  and  beheld 
the  people  thronging  out  from  the  porch,  he 
was  struck  dumb  with  amazement  and  terror — 
as  well  he  might  have  been,  indeed,  for  a  rea- 
son which  the  reader  will  presently  discover. 
His  neighbors  eyed  his  disordered  looks  with 
wonder;  and  some,  as  they  met  him,  turned  to 
gaze ;  while  others,  speaking,  bade  him  good 
morning.  But  he,  answering  either  not  at  all, 
or  with  the  briefest  form  of  salutation,  pressed 

forward  towards  the  meeting-house  door  with- 
17 


194  TWICE    MARRIED. 

out  stopping,  until  he  came  to  the  very  step- 
stone  whereon  stood  Parson  Graves,  who  had 
just  put  on  his  cocked  hat  as  he  came  forth. 
"Parson  Graves!"  gasped  the  Deacon,  who 
was  almost  breathless  with  disquiet  and  haste, 
"can't  ye  jest  call  a  few  of  the  people  back, 
and  open  the  meetin'  agin,  for  jest  a  single 
minute  ?" 

"  For  what  reason,  I  pray  to  know,  Deacon 
Sweeny?"  inquired  the  Parson,  in  great  sur- 
prise at  this  singular  request. 

"Jest  call  'em  back!"  cried  the  Deacon, 
imploringly — "  or  stay;  I  will — hello  there! — • 
Cap'n  Brown,  I  say — Leftenant  Jones  and  a 
lot  on  ye — here — hello ! — corne  back !" 

"  Deacon  Sweeny, "  said  Parson  Graves, 
"pray  cease  this  unseemly  outcry.  It  is  too 
late  to  recall  the  congregation,  who  have  been 
dismissed  to  their  homes." 

"  Oh,  dear !"  cried  the  Deacon,  giving  way 
to  despair,  while  a  few  of  his  wondering  neigh- 
bors, attracted  by  his  shouts,  returned  and 
gathered  about  him,  making  eager  inquiries 
concerning  the  cause  of  his  distress.  "Oh, 
dear !  dear !  here  I've  got  in  my  pocket  my  son 


TWICE    MARRIED.  195 

Joab's  publishment,  which  ort  tu  have  been 
read  from  the  pulpit  this  mornin',  and  the 
weddin's  set  for  to-night !" 

"  Creation !"  whispered  Captain  Brown  to 
Lieutenant  Jones;  "I  guess  the  Deacon's  wife 
'11  be  on  eend  when  she  larns  how  'tis." 

"And  the  Colonel!"  replied  the  Captain; 
"wont  he  rare,  though,  when  he  hears  on't?  " 

"Tut,  tut,  tut!"  said  Parson  Graves,  with 
lively  sympathy;  "what  a  pity  !  How  came  it 
to  pass,  Deacon,  that  you  were  not  at  meeting 
in  season  to  hand  me  the  document,  so  that  it 
might  have  been  read  from  the  desk,  according 
to  law  and  the  custom  in  such  cases  ?" 

"There's  John  Dashleigh!"  cried  a  by- 
stander; "jest  holler  and  call  him  back,  and 
send  for  the  Colonel.  He'll  know  what  to  do, 
if  anybody  doos." 

"Truly  a  very  sensible  and  timely  sugges- 
tion, "  said  the  Parson,  who,  like  everybody  else 
in  the  parish,  had  a  great  opinion  of  Colonel 
Manners'  wisdom.  "  Call  out  to  the  young  man 
to  return  hither — some  one  who  has  the  requisite 
strength  of  voice." 

"Hello — o — o! — here!    John  Dashleigh! 


196  TWICE    MARRIED. 

come  back!"  shouted  half  adozen  pairs  of 
vigorous  lungs  the  feeble  pipe  of  Deacon 
Sweeny  joining  in  the  chorus. 

At  hearing  himself  thus  vociferously  called, 
John  turned  back  and  retraced  his  steps  to  the 
porch  of  the  meeting-house,  wondering  what 
could  be  the  cause  of  such  an  unusual  outcry. 

"Mr.  John  Dashleigh,"  said  the  Parson, 
"  you  will  grieve  to  be  informed  that,  by  a  most 
unfortunate  omission  of  a  requisite  and  whole- 
some formality,  the  wedding  of  your  cousin 
Lucy  and  young  Joab  Sweeny  must  be  post- 
poned." 

"Oh,  no!"  whispered  the  Deacon,  with 
terror-blanched  lips. 

"At  least,  such,  I  fear,  must  be  the  result  of 
what  has  happened, "  resumed  the  Parson. 
"Your  uncle,  being  not  only  learned  in  the 
law,  but  the  father  of  the  intended  bride,  ought 
to  be  informed  of  the  untoward  event,  and  con- 
sulted with  concerning  it  and  its  consequences. 
Will  you  be  so  good,  therefore,  as  to  hasten 
home  and  communicate  the  news  to  him,  pri- 
vately, I  should  advise ;  and  also  request  him,  in 
my  name,  to  come  immediately  to  my  house, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  197 

where  Deacon  Sweeny  and  myself  will  wait  to 
see  him.  I  think,"  added  the  Parson,  with  a 
quiet  smile,  "that  we  had  better  not  go  to 
your  house,  Deacon,  until  we  have  first  taken 
counsel  with  the  Colonel." 

"Oh,  by  no  means!"  cried  the  Deacon, 
eagerly. 

John  received  the  message  and  hastened 
home,  where,  first  having  seen  his  aunt  Betsy 
and  told  her  of  what  had  happened,  he  sought 
the  Colonel  in  his  bedroom,  where  he  sat  read- 
ing the  newspaper  and  waiting  for  dinner,  and 
delivered  his  errand. 

The  Colonel  heard  the  news  with  manifest 
concern.  He  dropped  his  paper,  and  gave  a 
prolonged  whistle.  "Deacon  forgot  it,  eh?" 
said  he. 

"  Yes,"  replied  John ;  "  so  I  understood." 

"  Whew !  and  wont  Axy  all  but  bust  when 
she  finds  it  out !  Actilly,  'tain't  best  to  tell 
her ;  the  Deacon,  raly,  wouldn't  be  safe  ;  she'd 
take  his  pelt,  I  du  believe.  I  tell  ye,  John," 
continued  his  uncle,  after  a  thoughtful  pause, 
"you  jest  keep  your  own  counsel,  and  I'll  run 
right  up  to  the  Parson's.  'Tain't  so  bad  as  it 


198  TWICE    MARRIED. 

might  be;  though,  if  the  women  get  holt  on't, 
it'll  make  some  trouble,  mebby.  I'll  jest  take 
a  look  at  the  statoot,  and  see  percizely  what 
the  law  is  on  this  point,  and  then  I'll  go  right 
along.  But,  publishment  or  no  publishment, 
them  two  must  be  married  to-night.  I've  set 
my  heart  on't,  as  I've  told  ye  more'n  once; 
and,  besides,  I've  swore  to't,  and  it's  got  to 
be." 

So  saying,  the  Colonel  took  down  his  well- 
thumbed  copy  of  the  Kevised  Statutes,  opened 
at  the  index,  then  turned  to  the  chapter  entitled 
"An  Act  for  the  due  and  orderly  celebrating 
of  Marriage,"  and  brought  all  the  force  of  his 
intellect  to  bear  upon  the  question  of  the  con- 
struction and  true  interpretation,  intent  and 
meaning  of  the  clause  which  prescribed  that, 
"no  person  shall  be  joined  in  marriage,  before 
the  purpose  or  intention  of  the  parties  proceed- 
ing therein  hath  been  sufficiently  published  in 
some  public  meeting  or  congregation,  on  the 
Lord's  Day,  or  some  public  fast,  thanksgiving, 
or  lecture  day,  in  the  parish  or  society  where 
the  parties,  or  either  of  them,  do  ordinarily  re- 
side." 


TWICE    MARRIED.  199 

In  the  mean  time,  Lieutenant  Jones,  whose 
dwelling  was  the  next  door  to  Deacon  Sweeny's, 
had  hurried  home,  and  told  the  important  news 
to  his  wife ;  and  that  worthy  lady,  leaving  the 
care  of  the  roast  to  a  little  black  girl,  lost  no 
time  in  going,  by  the  back  way,  to  her  neigh- 
bors, and  imparting  to  Mrs.  Sweeny  and 
Joab  the  astounding  intelligence  which  so 
nearly  concerned  them.  It  was  in  consequence 
of  this  act  of  neighborly  kindness,  that  Lieu- 
tenant Jones's  household  were,  that  day,  forced 
to  dine  on  chicken  pie  ;  the  little  black  girl 
having  proved  unworthy  of  the  trust  reposed 
in  her  by  her  too  confiding  mistress,  and  the 
subject  matter  of  the  trust  itself,  to  wit,  a 
fat  and  tender  twelve-pound  spring  turkey, 
having  been  suffered  to  burn  upon  the  spit, 
until  it  was  nothing  but  a  crisped  and  black- 
ened cinder. 

Though  she  afterwards  attempted,  on  many 
an  occasion,  to  describe  the  rage  of  Mrs.  Sweeny 
at  hearing  of  the  Deacon's  default  and  its  dire- 
ful effect,  Mrs.  Jones  was  never  able  to  do  the 
matter  full  justice,  as  she  was  wont  freely  to 
confess ;  albeit  she  was  a  woman  of  fluent 


200  TWICE    MARRIED. 

speech,  and  not  a  little  vain  of  her  gift  in  that 
respect,  withal.  Her  own  subsequent  fit  of 
anger,  at  beholding  the  charred  remains  of  the 
unfortunate  turkey  afore-mentioned,  although 
it  struck  the  deepest  terror  into  the  heart  of 
the  negligent  little  black  wench,  and,  indeed, 
appalled  even  the  brave  militia-man,  her  hus- 
band, was,  in  comparison,  but  an  ordinary 
South-easter  to  a  West  Indian  hurricane. 
What  Mrs.  Jones's  ready  tongue  repeatedly 
failed  to  accomplish,  my  feeble  pen  shall  not 
attempt  to  perform. 

When  the  first  furious  gust  of  her  indigna- 
tion had  spent  itself,  and  had  given  place  to 
fierce  but  less  violent  blasts  of  wrathful  emo- 
tion, Mrs.  Sweeny  seized  her  bonnet  and 
shawl,  and,  followed  by  Joab,  started  forth- 
with, at  a  rapid  pace,  for  Colonel  Manners' 
house,  whither,  as  she  supposed,  her  guilty 
husband  had  fled  for  refuge.  The  Parson  and 
the  Deacon,  waiting  for  the  Colonel's  corning, 
saw  her  through  the  windows  of  the  parsonage 
parlor,  as  she  went  trooping  by,  and  knew 
then  that  the  rumor  had  reached  her  ears. 
The  Deacon  turned  livid  and  shivered  in  his 


TWICE    MARRIED.  201 

shoes,  but  the  wiser  Parson  took  heart  and 
comforted  his  trembling  parishioner.  "  The 
worst  is  over,"  said  he ;  "  such  violent  physi- 
cal exercise  will  not  fail  to  carry  off  and,  as  it 
were,  allay  the  superfluity  of  her  mental  irri- 
tation. I  think,  therefore,  that,  as  my  dinner 
is  not  yet  ready,  we  had  better  go  up  to  the 
Colonel's  also  ;  for  otherwise  it  is  plain  that 
we  shall  not  now  see  him. 

So  it  happened,  that  when  Colonel  Manners, 
after  turning  down  a  leaf  at  the  act  aforesaid 
concerning  Marriage,  returned  the  Revised 
Statutes  to  it  splace  on  the  shelf,  and,  putting 
on  his  hat,  had  got  as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the 
lane,  on  his  way  to  the  Parson's,  he  beheld  his 
sister,  the  Deacon's  wife,  bearing  down  towards 
him  with  incredible  swiftness,  with  Joab  follow- 
ing closely  in  her  wake  ;  and,  in  the  distance, 
he  descried  the  Parson  and  Deacon  Sweeny, 
hovering  at  a  safe  interval  astern,  while,  all 
along  the  street,  the  neighbors,  standing  at 
their  doors,  watched  from  afar  the  progress  of 
the  squadron. 

"  Well !  there !"  said  the  Colonel,  in  a  de- 
spairing tone,  as  he  came  to  a  halt,  and  taking 


202  TWICE    MARRIED. 

off  his  hat  rubbed  his  scalp  in  great  perplexity : 
"  now  ef  there  ain't  a  going  to  be  a  time,  I  own 
I  never  see  one !" 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Sweeny  reached  the  place 
where  her  brother  was  standing,  bareheaded, 
she  forthwith  essayed  to  speak ;  but  the  tumult 
of  her  emotions,  together  with  the  extreme 
velocity  of  her  pace,  had  well  nigh  deprived 
her  of  all  power  to  use  that  unruly  member  of 
her  body,  for  the  usual  vigor  of  which  she  was 
so  justly  remarkable.  She  was  able  only  to 
gasp  forth  a  few  fragments  of  exceedingly 
abusive  aand  calumnious  epithets,  reference 
thereby  being  had  to  her  husband,  Deacon 
Sweeny.  This  unwonted  impotence  on  the  part 
of  the  lady  gave  her  brother  an  unexpected 
advantage,  which  he  did  not  fail  to  improve.  "I 
declare,"  said  he,  addressing  her  with  great 
asperity,  "ye  act  more  like  a  dumb  fool  than 
ever  I  knew  ye  to;"  which  was,  indeed,  the 
exact  truth ;  although,  to  be  sure,  the  Colonel 
did  not  use  the  adjective  in  its  ordinary  and 
literal  sense,  but  chose  it  to  qualify  the  noun, 
on  account  of  its  innocent  similarity  iii  sound 
to  a  more  profane  word.  "Here  ye  are,"  he 


TWICE    MARRIED.  203 

continued,  "a  racing  down  here  like  a  ravin' 
distracted  cretur  got  out  o'  Bedlam;  and  the 
upshot  on't  '11  be  that  ye'll  stir  up  Betsey  and 
Lucy,  and  frighten  'em  about  the  publishment, 
when,  ef  ye'd  ha'  just  kep  away,  they'd  ha' 
never  known  on't  till  arterwards,  and  no  harm 
done.  And  you,  too,  Joab  ;  what  do  you  mean 
by  tearin'  along  the  street  arter  this  fashion, 
with  all  the  neighbors  a  lookin'  on,  a  wonderin' 
and  makin'  fun.  You  ort  to  know  better.  I 
declare,  you  put  me  out  of  all  consait  with 
ye!" 

"And  where's  the  Deacon?"  cried  Mrs. 
Sweeny,  who,  by  this  time,  had  recovered 
breath  enough  to  speak ;  "  where  is  he ;  the 
ridic'lous,  forgetful,  good-for-nothin,'  onnateral 
old ." 

"Now  do  you  jest  come  in  here  !"  muttered 
the  Colonel  through  his  closed  teeth,  as  he 
suddenly  griped  his  sister  by  the  arm,  and 
walked  her  before  him  through  the  gate  out  of 
the  street. 

"  Ow-ah — let  me  alone  !"  cried  Mrs.  Sweeny. 
But  the  Colonel  had  grown  desperate.  He 
tightened  his  grip,  and  gave  his  sister  a  shake 


204  TWICE    MARRIED. 

or  two  that  set  her  teeth  a  chattering.  "  I  tell 
ye,"  said  he,  in  a  low,  determined  tone,  «'ef  ye 
open  yer  head  to  let  out  on't  any  of  yer  spite- 
ful slang  agin  yer  husband,  or  anybody  else,  I'll 

be  d d  ef  I  don't  give  ye  what  he'd  ort  to 

gi'n  years  ago,  by  gracious  !  I  will,  ef  it  costs 
a  string  o'  lawsuits !  So  shet  up  yer  mouth  !" 
he  added,  shaking  his  head  threateningly,  as  he 
let  go  his  hold  upon  her  arm,  "and  don't  let 
me  hear  a  crooked  word  out  on't." 

Mrs.  Sweeny  was,  for  once  in  her  life,  pretty 
thoroughly  cowed ;  and,  at  this  moment,  greatly 
to  her  surprise,  her  husband  and  Parson  Graves 
appeared  at  the  gate ;  but  the  virago,  into 
whose  heart  the  Colonel's  threat  had  struck  a 
wholesome  terror,  dared  not  open  her  lips  to 
revile  the  Deacon,  especially  as  he  was  in  the 
company  of  the  Parson. 

"  Mornin',  Parson ;  rnornin',  Deacon,"  cried 
the  Colonel,  trying  to  assume  a  manner  of 
smiling  indifference.  "  Come  in,  Deacon ;  don't 
be  afraid,  your  wife  and  I  have  heerd  all  about 
it.  There  ain't  much  harm  done,  I  guess." 

"And  what  can  be  done,  Colonel  Manners'?" 
inquired  the  Parson,  coming  forward,  while  the 


TWICE    MARRIED.  205 

Deacon,  shrinking  at  the  sight  of  the  blazing 
fury  which  flashed  from  his  wife's  eyes,  still 
hung  in  the  rear. 

"  Jest  come  into  the  house  and  we'll  talk  it 
all  over,"  replied  the  Colonel,  leading  the  way ; 
but,  at  the  same  time,  casting  backward  a 
glance  of  warning  at  his  sister. 

As  soon  as  the  whole  party  were  seated  in 
the  bedroom,  the  Colonel  went  to  seek  his 
wife,  who  was  not  far  off,  having,  from  the 
window  of  Lucy's  chamber,  beheld,  with  ex- 
ultation, the  victory  which  her  husband  had 
gained  over  Mrs.  Sweeny.  He  found  her  upon 
the  stairs,  and  briefly  communicated  to  her  the 
intelligence  of  which  she  had  already  been  in- 
formed by  John  Dashleigh. 

•'  Good  gracious  me !"  cried  Mrs.  Manners, 
with  well-feigned  surprise,  "  and  there's  all  the 
invitations  to  the  wedding  have  been  sent,  and 
a  good  many  are  comin'  from  out  o'  town. 
What  on  earth's  to  be  done?" 

"  Now,  Betsey,"  said  the  Colonel,  taking  his 
wife  by  the  hand,  "  I'm  dreftully  perplexed ; 
and  I  beg  on  ye  to  be  a  reasonable  woman,  as 

you  can  be  well  enough,  if  ye'r  only  a  mind  to. 
IS 


206  TWICE  MARRIED. 

Don't  go  to  bein'  sot  and  def  to  argyment,  as 
women  will  be  sometimes.  You  know  I  have 
swore  a  solemn  oath  that  this  weddin'  has  got 
to  take  place  to-night.  I  nyther  want  to  break 
my  oath  or  to  have  a  fuss  a  keepin'  on't  with 
you  or  Lucy." 

"  But  to  be  married  without  a  publishment," 
said  Mrs.  Manners,  in  a  tone  of  gentle  remon- 
strance. 

"  Betsey !"  cried  the  Colonel,  a  little  impa- 
tiently, "  you  know  you've  seen  me  marry, 
fust  and  last,  a  hull  barn-yard  full  of  couples, 
that  probably  had  never  been  published.  But 
come,  there's  the  Parson,  Axy,  Joab,  and  the 
Deacon,  all  a  waitin'  down  in  the  bedroom  to 
hear  my  opinion  about  the  matter,  I'm  a  goin' 
to  read  'em  the  law,  and  explain  upon't.  Jest 
come  along,  and  ef  ye'r  only  reasonable  I'll 
satisfy  you  all." 

The  Colonel  was  evidently  sadly  bothered 
and  annoyed,  and  his  wife,  who  loved  him  with 
all  her  heart,  said  nothing  more  to  add  to  his 
vexation.  "  I'm  willing,  husband,"  said  she, 
pressing  his  hand,  "  that  if  your  heart  is  set 
upon  it,  your  oath  should  be  fulfilled  to-night ; 


TWICE    MARRIED.  207 

only  it's  natural  to  feel  sorry  to  have  our  only 
child  married  like  a  girl  that's  run  away  with, 
without  being  first  published." 

"I  know  it,  Betsey,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"  but  it  can't  be  helped." 

So  Mrs.  Manners,  without  further  remark, 
followed  her  husband  into  the  bedroom,  where 
the  others  were  waiting.  The  Deacon  felt 
greatly  relieved  at  their  arrival,  which  was, 
indeed,  for  him  most  opportune ;  for  even  the 
reverend  presence  of  Parson  Graves  would  not 
have  availed  much  longer  to  have  made  Mrs. 
Sweeny  keep  the  peace  toward  her  husband. 
As  soon  as  the  usual  greetings  had  been  ex- 
changed between  Mrs.  Manners  and  the  visit- 
ors, the  Colonel  took  down  the  statute-book 
again,  and  opened  at  the  place  where  the  leaf 
was  turned  down. 

"  We  all  know  that  the  usual  form  of  publi- 
cation of  intention  has  been  omitted,"  said 
Parson  Graves,  looking  at  his  watch,  and  think- 
ing of  his  dinner.  "  Let  us  lose  no  time  in 
deciding  what  is  to  be  done,  with  respect  to 
the  wedding,  which,  otherwise,  would  have 
been  celebrated  to-night.  Joab,  you  are  one 


208  TWICE    MARRIED. 

of  the  parties  most  interested.  Are  you  will- 
ing that  the  ceremony  should  .be  postponed 
until  another  week,  in  order  that  due  notice 
may  be  given  next  Sabbath-day  from  the 
pulpit?" 

Now  Joab's  mind,  during  his  hurried  walk, 
and  while  he  had  been  waiting  in  the  bedroom, 
had  been  greatly  exercised  and  disturbed  by  a 
most  distressing  doubt.  In  a  word,  he  feared 
that  the  validity  of  his  prospective  rights,  as  a 
husband,  in  his  intended  wife's  estate,  might, 
perhaps,  be  affected  and  impaired  by  a  non- 
compliance  with  all  the  requirements  of  the 
law.  "  For  my  part,"  said  he,  wriggling  in  his 
chair,  as  he  replied  to  Parson  Graves'  question, 
"I  should  like  to  know  whether  it's  legal  in 
every  point  to  go  on.  If  it  ain't  legal  every 
way — and  I  don't  see  how  it  can  be — I  must 
say  I'd  rather  wait.  I  ain't  in  no  sich  a  hurry 
as  to  want  to  break  the  law." 

"Humph!"  said  the  Colonel,  regarding  his 
nephew  with  a  look  of  contempt,  as  he  con- 
cluded his  reply,  "  ye'r  purty  cool-headed,  and 
cool-blooded  though,  for  a  man  of  your  age,  in 
your  sittywashun." 


TWICE    MARRIED.  209 

"  I'm  sure,"  said  the  Parson,  "  I  admire  the 
caution  and  prudence  which  the  young  man 
evinces.  If  it  is  not  legal  to  proceed,  I  cannot 
perform  the  ceremony." 

The  Colonel  shook  his  head  as  a  warning  to 
his  sister,  who,  with  difficulty,  restrained  her 
wrath.  "  The  weddin',"  said  he,  slowly,  and 
still  looking  at  the  discomfited  Joab  with  scorn- 
ful anger;  "the  weddin'  ither  takes  place  to- 
night or  never.  I've  a  fust  rate  reason  for 
bein'  sot  and  posityve,  and  I  mean  jest  what  I 
say.  Ef  Joab  aint  a-mind  to  be  married  to  my 

•/  «/ 

darter,  I  aint  a  goin'  to  urge  him  ;  and  ef  Par- 
son Graves  wants  to  have  it  said  that  his  pa- 
rishioners had  to  send  out  for  a  minister  to  act 
at  a  weddin',  well  and  good ;  I've  nothin' 
more  to  say,  jest  now,  on  that  pint." 

"  Of  course "  began  Joab. 

"As  for  the  matter  of  its  bein'  accordin'  to 
law,  I  don't  suppose  it  is,  strickly  speakin'," 
continued  the  Colonel,  unmindful  of  the  inter- 
ruption. "  I'll  jest  read  and  explain  what's  said 
on  that  pint.  You  see,  Parson,"  he  added, 
after  having  read  from  the  book  which  he  held 


210  TWICE    MARRIED. 

in  his  hand,  "  you  see  the  statoot  pervides  that 
no  person  shall  be  jined  in  wedlock,  without 
they've  fust  ben  published  in  a  sartin  manner 
pinted  out.  Well,  that  looks,  to  be  sure,  at 
fust  sight,  as  if  it  meant  to  say  no  publishment, 
no  jinin' — but  'tain't  so,  and  it  don't  mean  so  ; 
for  the  third  section  here  pervides,  that,  ef  any 
justice  or  minister  shall  jine  any  person  in 
marriage — shall  JINE  any  person  in  marriage," 
he  repeated  with  increased  emphasis,  and  look- 
ing up  over  his  spectacles  at  the  Parson,  "  with- 
out being  fust  published,  they  shall  pay  a  fine  of 
sixty-seven  dollars.  Now  jest  look  at  the  argy- 
ment.  You  see  it's  plain  that  when  persons  are 
married  without  bein'  published,  they're  ither 
jined  or  they  ain't  jined.  Ef  they  are  jined, 
why  they  are  jined,  and  that's  all  that's 
wanted,  and  ef  they  ain't  jined  they  ain't  jined, 
and  that  third  section  is  all  nym  and  doll,  don't 
mean  nothin',  and  can't  be  broke ;  and  ef  that's 
the  case,  what  on  airth  did  the  Legislator  put 
it  into  the  law  for  ?  But  you  see  it  does  mean 
suthin',  and  can  be  broke,  and  it  follers  that 
persons  can  be  jined  in  marriage,  who  hain't 


TWICE    MARRIED.  211 

ben  published ;  only  them  that  performs  the 
ceremony  and  doos  jine'  em,  breaks  the  law  in 
so  doin',  and  is  liable  to  pay  the  penalty." 

Here  the  Colonel  paused,  and,  having  got  a 
little  heated,  he  took  off  his  spectacles  and 
wiped  his  forehead  with  his  bandanna. 

"Jest  so,"  said  Mrs.  Sweeny,  to  whom, 
nevertheless,  the  Colonel's  exposition  of  the 
meaning  of  the  statute  had  been  wholly  in- 
comprehensible. "It's  asp  lain  as  print  that  it's 
all  exactly  accordin'  to  the  law." 

"  I  think  I  understand  your  argument,  Colo- 
nel," said  the  Parson,  who  had  listened  atten- 
tively, sitting,  meanwhile,  very  straight  and 
upright  in  his  chair,  with  his  hands  resting  on 
the  top  of  his  cane  standing  between  his  knees, 
his  eyebrows  and  chin  a  little  elevated,  and  his 
head  cocked  thoughtfully  to  one  side.  "  Allow 
me  to  see  the  book,"  he  added,  putting  on  his 
spectacles — "ah!  yes — section  third — um-m — 
any  minister — um-m-shall  pay— sixty-seven  dol- 
lars— um — one  moiety — um-m — and  so  forth  : 
yes,  Colonel,  I  think  you're  right;  and,  with 
respect  to  the  fine " 

"Why!  of  course,  you  wont  lose  nothin'  in 


212  TWICE    MARRIED. 

that  way !"  cried  the  Colonel  with  great  em- 
phasis— "  the  Deacon  and  I  will  stand  in  that 
gap,  if  need  be; — hey,  Deacon?" 

"  Y-yes,  of  course,"  replied  Deacon  Sweeny, 
under  the  strait  duress  of  his  wife's  glance. 

"  I'd  be  willin'  to  give  twice  the  money,  jest 
to  see  the  feller  that  'ud  dare  to  prosecute," 
cried  the  Colonel,  smiting  the  table  with  his 
fist. 

"Nevertheless,"  remarked  the  Parson,  "I 
must  confess  I  like  not  the  idea  of  infracting 
the  law  of  the  land,  even  when  I  may  do  so 
with  impunity.  It  becomes  not  those  to  whom 
authority  is  entrusted  to  use  it  in  a  manner 
which  is  by  law  forbidden." 

"Well,  Parson,"  said  the  Colonel;  "as  for 
that,  I  suppose  I'm  in  authority  as  much  as  you 
be ;  and,  though  as  a  ginral  thing  I  intend  to 
be  a  law-abidin'  man,  which  I  ort  to  be  as  a 
citizen  and  a  freeman,  and  partic'larly  as  a 
magistrate,  I'd  as  lief  as  not  tell  ye  that  I  ex- 
pect I've  broke  this  identical  statoot  more'n 
fifty  times.  Ef  a  couple  looks  old  enough  to 
have  a  right  to  be  married  as  they  please,  I 
jine'  em  without  bein'  too  curous." 


TWICE    MARRIED.  213 

"Is  it  possible!"  cried  the  Parson;  "and 
that's  the  secret  of  the  reason  why  young  people 
from  beyond  the  line  seek  your  house  so  much 
more  frequently  than  mine,  as  I  have  heard?" 

"  Egzackly,"  replied  the  Colonel,  with  a 
shrewd  smile ;  "  now  you've  found  it  out,  you'll 
be  gettin'  my  business  away  from  me — now 
you've  larnt  the  trick  of  my  trade :  and  a  pretty 
good  business  it  is,  too,  about  this  time  o'  year. 
Last  Thanksgivin'  night,  when  we  got  home 
from  Andrew's  and  Sally's  weddin',  up  to  the 
Deacon's  here,  you  rec'lect,  we  found  two 
couple  a  waitin'  to  be  jined ;  didn't  we,  Betsey  ? 
and  I  jined  'em,  too;  though  I  hain't  no  more 
idee  they  was  published,  than  I  have  they  was 
Hindoos — not  a  bit." 

Encouraged  by  these  precedents,  Parson 
Graves  no  longer  hesitated ;  but,  in  reply  to  a 
straightforward  inquiry,  propounded  by  Mrs. 
Sweeny,  signified  his  willingness  to  officiate  at 
the  ceremony,  by  which  Joab  and  Lucy  were 
to  be  made  one  flesh,  notwithstanding  the 
omission  of  the  public  notice  of  intention. 

This  announcement  seemed  to  give  universal 
satisfaction  to  everybody  present.  The  Dea- 


214  TWICE    MARRIED. 

con's  heart,  especially,  was  thereby  lightened 
of  a  heavy  load,  and  he  experienced  at  once  a 
remarkable  exaltation  of  spirits.  His  wife,  too, 
was  rendered  so  good-natured,  for  the  time 
being,  that  she  even  smiled  grimly  when  Par- 
son Graves,  with  a  dry  humor  peculiar  to  him- 
self, described  the  Deacon's  dismay  at  the 
meeting-house  porch  door.  But  Joab,  in  spite 
of  the  cheerful  demeanor  which  he  thought  it 
wise  to  assume,  was  still  secretly  uneasy. 
"  Law's  so  full  o'  ketches,"  said  he  to  himself, 
"and  Uncle  Starr,  with  all  his  knowledge, 
hain't  learnt  'em  all  by  considerable."  So, 
while  the  rest  of  the  company  were  listening 
to  Parson  Graves,  he  picked  up  the  sheepskin- 
covered  book  from  the  table,  and  slyly  read 
every  section  of  the  statute  concerning  mar- 
riage. 

Though  stoutly  pressed  to  stay  to  dinner, 
the  visitors,  one  and  all,  excused  themselves, 
and  shortly  afterwards  departed  in  a  body, 
Parson  Graves  and  Joab  leading  the  way,  and 
the  Deacon  and  his  wife  following  after,  arm  in 
arm,  in  what  seemed  to  be  a  very  lovingly 
conjugal  style.  So  the  neighbors,  hurrying  to 


TWICE    MARRIED.  215 

the  windows  as  they  passed  by,  knew  by  this 
token  that  the  wedding  was  not  to  be  post- 
poned ;  for,  as  Mrs.  Ensign  Vickars  shrewdly 
remarked,  if  harm  had  come  of  the  Deacon's 
heedlessness,  he  never  would  have  dared  to 
trust  himself  so  near  to  his  wife  upon  the  same 
day. 


CHAPTER    X. 

AT  last,  the  brief  November's  day  came  to 
its  close,  and  the  sun,  which,  during  the  after- 
noon, had  been  shining  with  a  pale  luster, 
through  a  thin  veil  of  fleecy  clouds,  blazed 
forth  round,  red,  and  bright,  just  before  he  dis- 
appeared beyond  the  steep  southwestern  hills, 
leaving  behind  him  the  sunset  sky,  glowing 
with  a  lustrous  apple-green  tint,  streaked 
with  long  trailing  clouds  of  rose  and  flame 
color,  which,  after  awhile,  faded  slowly  until 
their  gorgeous  hues  were  changed  to  purple 
and  sober  gray.  The  night  set  in  clear  and 
cold,  with  a  fresh,  keen,  bracing  northwestern 
gale  blowing  down  the  valley,  and  whistling 
among  the  naked,  swaying  branches  of  the 
button-woods  and  elms.  The  stars  came  out, 
sparkling  like  frosty  particles  in  the  deep  blue- 
black  sky;  but,  even  brighter  than  they,  the 
gleaming  windows  of  the  Manners  mansion 
shone  forth  like  beacons  into  the  moonless 
night ;  and  even  the  yards  in  the  rear  were 


TWICE    MARRIED.  217 

illuminated  by  the  flash  and  glare  of  lanterns, 
carried  in  the  hands  of  old  Tite  and  his  staff 
of  helpers,  who,  as  the  numerous  wedding 
guests  arrived,  led  away  their  horses  to  the 
sheds  and  stables,  there  to  feast  at  plenteous 
mangers  full  of  newly-threshed  oats,  and  well- 
stuffed  racks  of  sweet  and  savory  hay. 

Meantime,  all  within  doors  was  humming 
like  a  hive.  There  was  not  a  household  in 
all  the  Niptuck  valley,  however  poor  and 
humble,  which  had  not  there  present  at  least 
its  one  representative  member,  either  in  the 
parlor  or  the  kitchen;  and,  from  the  neigh- 
boring towns,  cousins  and  friends  had  come 
to  swell  the  throng  of  merry  guests,  with 
which,  spacious  as  it  was,  the  old  house 
seemed  full  to  overflowing.  The  greater  num- 
ber were  gathered  in  the  best  room,  waiting 
for  the  expected  appearance  of  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  elect.  But  Lucy,  in  her  chamber, 
was  still  under  the  hands  of  the  dressy  man- 
tua-maker ;  while  the  bridesmaids,  admitted, 
by  virtue  of  their  office,  to  behold  the  spec- 
tacle of  the  toilette,  stood  by,  making  vain 

and  unheeded  offers  of  assistance,  and  at  times 
19 


218  TWICE    MARRIED. 

breaking  forth  into  enthusiastic  expressions  of 
admiration  at  the  rare  loveliness  of  the  mute 
and  trembling  bride,  the  beauty  and  costliness 
of  her  attire,  and  the  wonderful  genius  and 
skill  of  the  fashionable  mantua-maker. 

Joab  and  the  groomsmen,  in  another  cham- 
ber, awaited  with  impatience  the  summons  to 
join  the  bridal  train,  beguiling  the  tedium  of 
delay  by  frequent  admiring  surveys  of  their 
own  images  reflected  in  the  mirror,  and  by 
watching  from  the  window  each  new  arrival, 
and  the  out-door  commotion  excited  thereby. 
Joab  himself,  of  course,  formed  the  principal 
figure  of  this  sprucely-attired  group.  He  was 
dressed  in  the  new  suit  constructed  for  the 
occasion  by  the  city  tailor ;  a  black  swallow- 
tailed  coat,  a  white  sprigged  vest,  and  dove- 
colored  trowsers  of  fine  kerseymere,  so  short 
as  to  leave  exposed  his  thick  and  clumsy 
ankles,  covered  by  white  silk  stockings.  His 
bony  hands  were  encased  in  white  kid  gloves, 
and  a  stiff,  tight,  white  cravat  encircled  in  its 
strict  folds  his  lean  and  scraggy  throat.  The 
little  that  was  left  of  his  hair  above  his  fore- 
head was  brushed  stiffly  upwards,  and  his  long 


TWICE    MARRIED.  219 

earlocks,  which  whilome  were  wont  to  hang 
straight  adown  his  cheeks,  were  curled  and 
frizzled  into  knots  like  rosettes  above  each  red 
and  shapeless  ear.  Thus  arrayed,  Joab's  heart 
beat  beneath  his  ruffled  shirt-front  with  a  gen- 
erous emotion,  longing  for  the  moment  to 
arrive  when  others,  as  well  as  himself,  might 
be  gratified  and  delighted  by  gazing  at  so 
splendid  a  spectacle  as  he  saw  and  felt  him- 
self to  be. 

In  the  kitchen  were  assembled  a  score  of 
the  negro  population  of  the  valley,  a  merry, 
jolly  crew,  listening,  though  with  many  noisy 
interj ectional  exclamations  of  delight  and  ap- 
plause, to  the  tuning  of  a  venerable  fiddle, 
which  Primus  Ball,  Aunt  Daffy's  ante-nuptial 
son,  had  brought  with  him  to  furnish  the 
music  for  the  expected  country  dance ;  while 
Aunt  Daffy  herself,  with  Mrs.  Dashleigh  and 
Susan,  was  busy  in  the  dining-room,  giving 
the  finishing  touches  to  the  array  set  out 
upon  the  long  table,  in  the  center  of  which 
the  great  bride's  loaf,  covered  with  glittering 
frosting,  loomed  up  in  the  midst  like  some  tall 
mountain  top  mantled  with  eternal  snows. 


220  TWICE    MARRIED. 

The  mistress  of  the  house  and  her  nephew, 
John  Dashleigh,  were  nowhere  to  be  seen ; 
but  in  the  great  parlor  the  good  Colonel,  gor- 
geously attired  in  a  blue  coat  with  brilliant 
gilt  buttons,  drab  breeches,  and  a  buff  vest  of 
military  cut,  almost  hidden  by  the  ruffle  of 
his  shirt,  stood  talking  with  Judge  Slow,  of 
Windham,  near  by  where  Deacon  Sweeny  and 
his  wife  were  seated,  each  silently  remember- 
ing the  evening  on  which,  five-and-twenty 
years  before,  the  same  old  apartment  had  been 
the  scene  of  their  own  wedding  festivities. 
There  was  the  same  wide,  cavernous,  old- 
fashioned  fire-place,  in  which  then,  as  now, 
a  burning  pile  of  seasoned  hickory-wood  sent 
a  roaring  blaze  far  up  into  the  huge  throat  of 
the  chimney  flue,  illuminating  the  room  with 
a  ruddy  glow,  which  even  the  brilliant  but 
paler  light  of  the  numerous  candles  could  not 
wholly  overpower.  There  were  the  same 
high-backed  chairs,  the  same  bow-legged, 
claw-footed  tables,  but  grown  darker  in  color 
with  increased  age ;  the  same  corner  cup- 
board, revealing  through  its  glazed  door  trea- 
sures of  ancient  silver  heir-looms  and  old- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  221 

fashioned  painted  china;  and  there  were  a 
few  among  the  gray-haired  people  present 
who  had  been  brisk  and  jocund  guests  at  the 
former  wedding  feast.  A  sigh  escaped  from 
the  flinty  heart  of  Mrs.  Sweeny,  and  fluttered 
through  between  her  thin  and  wrinkled  lips, 
as  she  recalled  to  mind  the  time  when  the 
withered  old  man  at  her  side  had  been  a  bride- 
groom, not  ill-favored  in  her  eyes,  and  she  her- 
self had  figured  bravely  as  a  young  and  comely 
bride.  Even  the  Deacon  sighed,  also,  as  he 
thought  regretfully  of  the  years  that  had  iped 
their  flight  since  his  wedding-day,  though  each 
one  had  left  behind  it  at  least  a  thousand  dol- 
lars increase  to  his  hoard  of  wealth. 

As  for  the  rest  of  the  company,  with  few 
exceptions,  they  were  as  gay  and  canty  as 
such  usually  staid  people  ever  permit  them- 
selves to  be.  Each  guest,  upon  his  or  her  ar- 
rival, had  been  invited  to  partake  of  the  steam- 
ing contents  of  an  immense  china  punch-bowl, 
of  ancient  shape  and  pattern,  that  usually 
occupied  a  place  in  the  corner  cupboard,  but 
which  now  stood  upon  a  buffet  in  the  hall, 
and  was  kept  replenished  with  hot  and  well- 


222  TWICE    MARRIED. 

spiced  brandy-sling.  The  men,  of  course,  each 
drank  his  glassful,  and  of  the  ladies  there  was 
not,  (after  a  little  coy  hesitation  and  renewed 
pressing,)  a  single  one  that  refused  to  comply 
with  the  hospitable  invitation.  It  is  not  won- 
derful that  the  guests,  already  full  of  the  dain- 
ties of  a  Thanksgiving  dinner,  what  with  the 
potent  sling,  the  excitement  of  the  occasion, 
and  the  pleasant  anticipations  of  further  good 
cheer,  were  complacent,  good  humored,  and 
abundantly  disposed  to  be  soberly  merry.  The 
youeg  women  were  ready  to  blush  and  giggle 
at  every  thing  which  the  young  fellows  said 
or  did ;  who,  on  their  part,  were  inspired  to 
titter  a  great  many  gallant  speeches,  and  to 
do  a  variety  of  smart  things,  the  very  thought 
of  which,  at  another  time,  would  have  appalled 
them  into  a  state  of  dumb  and  stupid  bash- 
fulness.  Ichabod  Pettigrew,  when  with  a  heart 
as  tender  and  impressible  as  ever  palpitated  in 
any  shepherd's  bosom,  was  yet,  for  all  that,  a 
bachelor  at  the  mature  age  of  five-and-thirty, 
only  because  he  had  never  dared  to  ask  a 
young  woman  for  her  company,  did,  that  night, 
venture  to  squeeze  the  fat  little  fingers  of  Hul- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  223 

dah  Pritchard's  left  hand ;  a  gentle  pressure, 
which  Huldah  gently  and  considerately  re- 
turned. And  though  aforetime  she  had  been 
heard  frequently  to  ridicule  Ichabod's  uncouth 
appearance  and  awkward  deportment,  and  to 
express  her  wonder  as  to  whom  he  would  ever 
get  to  have  him,  it,  nevertheless,  came  to  pass 
that,  a  year  from  that  very  night,  Huldah  was 
not  only  the  lawful  wedded  wife  of  this  same 
Ichabod  Pettigrew,  but  was  also  the  proud 
and  happy  mother  of  another  mortal  bearing 
the  same  name.  Aholiab  Fenn,  who,  next  to 
Andrew  Bunn,  was  reputed  to  have  the  droll- 
est speech  of  any  man  in  town,  was  that 
night  funnier  than  ever ;  nay,  funnier  than 
even  Andrew  himself,  whom  marriage  and 
family  cares  had  sobered  somewhat,  and  kept 
the  little  group  in  the  corner,  of  which  he 
was  the  center,  in  a  constant  titter  of  laughter. 
The  new  district  schoolmaster,  too,  rejoicing 
in  the  prospect  of  the  fat  living  by  which 
Thanksgiving  week  was  likely  to  be  distin- 
guished, forgot,  nay — stooped  from  the  dignity 
of  his  station,  and  walked  about  the  room,  with 
his  hand  under  his  coat-tails,  smiling  grimly, 


224  TWICE    MARRIED. 

and  sometimes  even  deigning  to  talk  awhile 
with  some  of  his  older  female  scholars,  with 
an  air  of  stiff  familiarity,  as  near  like  to  any 
common  mortal  as  could  have  been  expected. 
At  last  Parson  Graves  arrived,  very  late,  and 
threw  off  his  long  cloak  in  a  hurry ;  but  staid, 
nevertheless,  to  drink  a  tumbler  of  sling  at  the 
buffet.  As  he  entered  the  parlor  from  the  hall. 
in  advance  of  his  daughter,  Miss  Tabitha,  and 
a  little  band  of  elderly  maidens  that  usually 
followed  in  her  train,  the  buzz  of  laughter  and 
conversation  was  hushed  for  a  moment.  The 
older  people  who  were  seated  rose  from  their 
chairs,  and  the  young  folks  crowded  closer 
together  and  spoke  in  whispers,  suppressing 
their  glee.  The  Colonel  hastily  advanced 
through  the  press,  and  shook  hands  with  the 
Parson;  and  then,  quickly  turning  to  Miss 
Tabitha,  greeted  her  with  an  air  of  marked 
and  ceremonious  deference.  For,  although  her 
father  was  looked  up  to  by  everybody  in  the 
Niptuck  valley,  with  unmingled  reverence,  it 
must  be  confessed  that  his  benevolent  counte- 
nance, and  easy,  good-humored  manners,  failed 
to  beget  in  the  minds  of  his  parishioners  that 


TWICE    MARRIED.  225 

sense  of  awful  respect  which  was  inspired  by 
Miss  Tabitha's  lofty  demeanor  and  severe 
aspect. 

She  was  a  tall,  lean,  sharp-visaged  spinster, 
with  light  blue  eyes,  a  freckled  complexion, 
and  sandy  hair ;  and  was,  as  everybody  knew, 
the  very  incarnation  of  all  the  Christian  graces 
and  virtues  of  the  female  sort.  Nevertheless, 
such  is  the  depravity  of  the  perverse  human 
heart,  that  there  was  scarcely  a  man,  woman 
or  child  in  the  whole  parish  that  liked  her; 
except,  perhaps,  her  body  guard  of  vestals. 
The  young  women,  especially,  heartily  detested 
her ;  and  even  their  mothers,  while  holding  her 
up  to  them  as  an  exemplar,  if  the  truth  had 
been  known,  loved  her  no  better  than  theii 
daughters  did.  But  it  would  have  been 
thought  an  offense  akin  to  blasphemy  to  have 
given  utterance  to  these  sentiments;  and  when 
the  village  girls  ventured  to  murmur  and  repine 
against  the  austere  rule  and  annoying  super- 
vision that  Miss  Tabitha  constantly  exercised 
over  their  conduct  and  pursuits,  it  was  always 
done  in  whispers,  and  with  carefully  closed 
bedchamber  doors. 


226  TWICE    MARRIED. 

Next  to  the  grace  of  piety,  this  exemplary 
virgin  held  in  esteem  the  virtue  of  propriety; 
and,  indeed,  so  intense  was  her  aversion  to 
anything  which  was  not  strictly  and  rigidly 
proper,  that  her  mind  was  constantly  busy, 
endeavoring  to  detect  improprieties  in  every- 
thing she  saw  or  heard  other  people  do  or  say, 
in  order  that  she  might  reform  or  suppress 
them.  With  the  same  good  purpose  and  in- 
tent, she  was  at  great  pains  to  enlarge  the 
scope  of  her  observation,  and  so  used  to  go 
about  the  neighborhood  on  various  errands  of 
ostensible  charity  and  benevolence,  taking 
these  opportunities  to  spy  into  other  people's 
affairs,  and  pick  up  every  scandalous  rumor  and 
piece  of  gossip  that  was  astir  in  the  parish. 
By  constant  and  vigilant  practice,  therefore, 
her  faculties  had  grown  so  keen  that  she  espied 
latent  indecorums  which  a  common  observer 
never  could  have  discovered ;  and  quite  fre- 
quently the  young  girls  of  the  village  were 
dismayed  by  caustic  rebukes  from'Miss  Tabby, 
for  having  been  unwittingly  guilty  of  gross 
breaches  of  propriety  in  speech  or  conduct, 
of  the  nature  of  which,  even,  the  poor  little, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  227 

innocent  transgressors  had  before  that  time 
been  as  ignorant  as  Eve  was  of  sin  before  she 
saw  the  serpent. 

When  Parson  Graves,  upon  returning  from 
the  Colonel's  house  that  day,  had  informed  his 
virtuous  daughter  that  the  wedding  was  to  take 
place  in  the  evening,  in  spite  of  the  omission 
of  the  formality  of  publication,  Miss  Tabitha, 
whose  aversion  to  weddings  has  hereinbefore 
been  mentioned,  at  once  perceived  the  impro- 
priety of  such  a  proceeding,  and,  during  the 
whole  time  of  dinner,  and,  indeed,  all  through- 
out the  afternoon,  she  protested  with  great 
bitterness  against  the  proposition  of  consum- 
mating the  nuptial  ceremony,  before  the  usual 
preliminary,  which  the  law  prescribed,  had 
been  duly  observed.  What  her  arguments 
lacked  in  intrinsic  cogency  was  fully  made  up 
by  her  constant  reiteration  of  them;  and  when 
at  last,  at  a  rather  late  hour,  Parson  Graves 
and  his  daughter  set  out  for  the  Colonel's 
house,  he  had  promised  to  advise,  or  at  any  rate 
to  suggest  a  postponement  of  the  wedding.  As 
soon,  therefore,  as  the  worthy  minister  had 
finished  shaking  hands  with  the  most  wealthy 


228  TWICE  MARRIED. 

and  distinguished  of  his  flock  that  were  con- 
gregated in  the  parlor,  and  had  warmed  his 
chilly  hands  before  the  crackling  blaze  in  the 
fire-place,  he  drew  the  Colonel  aside  into  the 
chimney  corner,  and  began  to  express  the  hesita- 
tion which  he  felt  about  proceeding  further  with 
the  ceremony.  "In  fine,"  said  he,  in  conclu- 
sion, "I'm  inclined  to  think  that,  on  the  whole, 
you  had  better  let  me  announce  that,  for  this 
reason,  it  is  thought  advisable  to  put  the  wed- 
ding off;  at  the  same  time,  if  you  please, 
appointing  another  time,  and  renewing  the 
invitations." 

Now  the  Colonel,  though  he  held  the  Parson 
and  his  sacred  office  in  great  reverence,  was, 
nevertheless,  so  indignant  at  this  proposal,  that 
he  was  sorely  tempted  to  commit  the  sin  which 
easily  beset  him,  and,  in  fact,  liked  to  have 
muttered  an  oath  loud  enough  for  Parson 
Graves  and  the  Recording  Angel  to  overhear. 
And,  though  he  did  not  at  first  dare  to  trust 
himself  to  speak,  his  inflamed  countenance 
very  plainly  betrayed  the  nature  of  his  thoughts 
and  emotions.  Conscious  of  this,  he  cautious- 
ly avoided  meeting  the  Parson's  glance.  So, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  229 

biting  his  lips,  and  looking  abroad  at  a  venture, 
his  eyes  chanced  to  meet  those  of  Miss  Tabi- 
tha,  in  which,  at  that  moment,  twinkled  a 
gleam  of  spiteful  intelligence ;  for  she,  well 
knowing  the  subject  of  the  conference  between 
her  father  and  the  Colonel,  stood  at  a  distance, 
across  the  room,  watching  them  as  they  talked, 
and  waiting,  with  malicious  satisfaction,  for 
the  result  which  she  confidently  expected  to 
happen.  This  circumstance  added  fuel  to  the 
hot  flame  of  the  Colonel's  wrath.  He  did  not 
venture  to  reply  to  the  Parson,  lest  he  should 
be  betrayed  into  gross  unseemliness  of  speech. 
"Ef  it's  the  same  to  you,  Parson,"  said  he,  at 
length,  "I'd  ruther  talk  about  this  matter,  ef  it 
must  be  talked  over  agin,  in  some  other  place. 
There's  too  many  within  ear-shot,  here." 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  Parson,  and  straight- 
way followed  his  host  into  the  dining-room, 
from  whence  the  Colonel  led  the  way  into  the 
bedroom  where  he  and  his  wife  usually  slept, 
while  the  Parson  lingered  a  little  behind, 
gating,  with  a  good  appetite,  at  the  tempting 
display  which  covered  the  long  table.  "In- 
deed," thought  he,  "  but  it  would  be  a  pity  to 
20 


230  TWICE    MARRIED. 

suffer  such  a  feast  to  wait  longer  for  the 
guests!" 

It  is  needless  to  set  forth,  with  particularity, 
the  conversation  which  ensued  between  the 
Parson  and  the  Colonel.  It  is  sufficient  to  say, 
only,  that  Miss  Tabitha's  arguments,  being 
stated  at  second-hand  by  her  father,  and  with- 
out the  spiteful  energy  and  iteration  with 
which  they  had  been  originally  presented  by 
their  inventor,  seemed  to  have  grown  suddenly 
feeble.  They  were  attacked  by  the  Colonel, 
moreover,  with  great  zeal  and  vigor;  and  be- 
ing, in  Miss  Tabitha's  absence,  like  unto  a 
fortress  without  a  garrison  to  defend  it,  they 
were,  so  to  speak,  right  speedily  carried  by 
storm,  and  blown  up  and  demolished  without 
loss  of  time.  The  Colonel  showed  triumphant- 
ly that  the  decision  of  the  question  of  pro- 
priety, so  far  as  it  concerned  the  principal 
parties,  viz.,  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  apper- 
tained to  themselves  alone,  assisted  therein, 
withal,  if  need  be,  by  the  advice  of  their 
parents. 

"Ef  theifre  agreed,  I  should  like  to  know 
whose  business 'tis?"  said  the  Colonel;  "and 


TWICE    MARRIED.  231 

as  for  you,"  continued  he,  "though  I  ain't  a 
minister  to  be  sure,  fer  from  it,  arter  you've 
done  and  said  all,  I've  suthin  of  a  character  to 
maintain  myself,  though  I  say  it,  as  p'raps 
shouldn't  say  it,  which  I  don't  mean  as  a  gineral 
thing  to  do  aught  that  ain't  respectable  and 
proper " 

"Oh,  no — I — "  hastily  cried  the  Parson, 
who  began  to  be  a  little  uneasy  at  the  sarcastic 
tone  of  his  influential  parishioner. 

"And  though  p'raps  it  don't  look  well  in  me 
to  be  savin'  so,  I  think,  actilly,  my  neighbors 
are  willin'  to  give  me  credit  for  bein'  a  law- 
abidin'  and  orderly  citizen,"  added  the  Colonel. 

"Oh!  they  do,  they  do,"  said  the  Parson, 
soothingly. 

"Well,  I  raly  hope  so,"  continued  the  Co- 
lonel, in  a  mollified  tone;  "same  time,  as  I 
told  ye  to-day,  Parson,  I've  jined  scores  of 
couples,  that  probably  never'd  ha'  been  pub- 
lished nor  a  sign  on't,  and  I  only  wish  there'd 
one  sich  come  along  to-night,  and  I'd  show  you 
I  wan't  afeard  to  do  it  agin." 

At  this  moment  there  came  a  loud  knock  at 
the  front  door.  "I  wonder  who's  come  now?" 


232  TWICE    MARRIED. 

said  the  Colonel.  "  Ef  it  hadn't  ha'  been  fer 
this  hitch  they'd  ha'  been  too  late  fer  the  cere- 
mony." 

"Well,  well,"  cried  the  Parson,  taking  the 
hint  and  rising.  "I  shall  proceed,  for  it  would 
be  unpleasant  to  have  a  delay ;  though,  after 
all,  as  Tabitha  says,  a  slight  disappointment 
of  this  kind  might  very  likely  be  blessed  to  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  the  young  couple,  and 
teach  them  to  moderate  the  fire  of  passion, 
and  illustrate  the  uncertainty  of  human  plans 
and  calculations." 

"Well,"  said  the  Colonel,  "I'll  go  and 
speak  to  Miss  Manners,  and  have  her  hurry  the 
young  folks,  ef  they  ain't  got  ready,  and  you 
can  set  here  while  I'm  gone,  or  go  into  the 
parlor,  jest  as  you're  a  mind." 

"  I'll  wait  a  moment,"  said  the  Parson,  who 
was  determined  not  to  give  Miss  Tabitha  a 
chance  to  remonstrate  against  the  result  of  the 
conference. 

As  the  Colonel  opened  the  bedroom  door  he 
met  his  wife.  She  was  a  little  flurried  and 
spoke  rapidly,  and  with  a  catch  in  her  breath. 

"Why!    what's   the    matter?"    asked    the 


TWICE    MARRIED  233 

Colonel.  "I  can't  make  head  nor  tail  what 
you  say." 

"Oh, nothing,"  replied  his  wife,  in. the  same 
hurried,  flustered  way ;  "  I  was  going  to  ask 
you — but  never  mind — they  must  wait  till 
after  the  wedding." 

"  Wait !"  repeated  the  Colonel ;  "  who  wait? 
What  is  it  ?" 

"  Why,"  replied  Mrs.  Manners,  more  steadily  ; 
"  these  people  that  have  just  come  and  wish 
to  be  married ;  but  I  told  'em  we  were  going 
to  have  a  wedding  of  our  owa,  and  so " 

As  his  wife  began  to  speak,  the  Colonel 
noticed,  for  the  first  time,  that  a  strange  man 
and  woman  were  sitting  together  in  the  dining- 
room,  against  the  wainscot,  where  they  were 
shielded  by  the  mantel  from  the  brilliant  light 
of  the  candles  that  stood  upon  it.  The  man's 
figure  was  tall,  and  apparently  stout.  His 
swarthy  face  was  almost  hidden  by  a  pair  of 
immense,  bushy  whiskers.  His  age,  judging  by 
his  looks,  the  Colonel  thought  might  be  near 
thirty-five.  His  companion  was  closely  muffled 
in  a  large  cloak,  that  completely  enveloped  her 
form,  and  her  face  was  so  nearly  obscured  by  the 


234  TWICE    MARRIED. 

shapeless,  quilted  hood  she  wore,  that  it  was 
impossible  to  make  out  a  single  feature ;  though 
the  Colonel  noticed  the  ends  of  her  bright  red 
curls,  straggling  out  from  beneath  the  cape  of 
her  hood,  and  streaming  down  upon  her  shoul- 
ders in  a  dowdy  fashion.  As  soon  as  he  found, 
by  his  wife's  speech,  upon  what  errand  the 
strangers  had  come,  he  stopped  her  short. 

"  So  you  want  to  be  married,  do  ye  ?"  said  he, 
accosting  the  man  abruptly. 

The  stranger  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then 
replied  in  a  deep,  gruff  voice  : 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  he. 

"Are  you  published?"  pursued  the  Colonel, 
eagerly. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  man ;  "  we " 

"Never  mind  tellin'  the  reason.  I  don't 
keer  to  know  it,"  cried  the  Colonel,  hastily 
interrupting  the  other,  lest  he  should  disclose 
some  matter  that  would  appear  to  be  a  weighty 
objection  against  proceeding  in  the  affair. 

"Very  well,  sir,"  said  the  man. 

"  Though,  to  be  sure,"  added  the  Colonel, 
"  I  s'pose  I  oughter  make  one  query,  and  I 
must.  As  fer  you,  sir,  your  looks  shows  that 


TWICE    MARRIED.  235 

you've  nobody's  consent  to  ask  but  your  sweet- 
heart's.    But  how  is  it  with  the  gal  ?" 

"As  for  that,  Judge,"  said  the  man,  "ef  the 
woman  won't  be  offended,  I'll  take  my  oath 
five  vear  will  more'n  kiver  the  odds  between 

tt 

our  ages." 

"All  right,"  cried  the  Colonel,  joyously,  his 
face  beaming  with  delight.  "  I  tell  ye,  you've 
come  to  the  right  place,  and  in  jest  the  nick 
o'  time.  We've  a  weddin'  of  our  own  here 
to-night,  and  I'll  jine  ye  free  gratis  for  nothin', 
and  give  you  as  good  a  supper  as  you  ever  eat 
into  the  bargain.  Betsey,  jest  step  into  the 
bedroom  with  these  folks,  and  have  'em  take 
off  their  things,  and  send  the  Parson  out  here. 
He's  in  the  bedroom.  I  jest  want  to  speak  a 
word  to  him ;  and  I  say,  while  I'm  a  talkin',  to 
save  time,  you  find  out  the  names  and  where 
they  live,  and  write  the  stifakit,  will  ye,  and 
have  it  all  ready  for  me  sign  ?" 

So  Mrs.  Manners  led  the  way  into  the  bed- 
room, followed  by  the  strangers,  and  the  Parson, 
who  supposed  that  they  were  guests,  just 
arrived,  going  into  the  bedroom  to  add  their 
outside  clothing  to  the  heaps  and  piles  of 


236  TWICE    MARRIED. 

cloaks,  shawls,  tippets,  and  other  garments 
with  wTMch  the  bed  and  chairs  were  encum- 
bered, looked  at  them  without  wonder ;  and, 
upon  being  told  by  Mrs.  Manners  that  her  hus- 
band wished  to  see  him,  immediately  stepped 
forth  into  the  dining-room. 

"Parson!"  cried  the  Colonel,  beginning 
without  preface;  "that  couple  that's  jest 
gone  in  there  with  my  wife  has  come  to  be 
jined,  and  hain't  ben  published  nither,  and  I'm 
a  goin'  to  do  it  for  'em.  Don't  ye  remember, 
I  was  a  wishin'  for  some  sich  a  couple  to  come 
jest  as  they  knocked  at  the  door?" 

"Indeed!"  said  the  Parson;  "it  does  seem 
as  if  the  finger  of  Providence  could  be  seen  in 
it." 

"Don't  it?"  said  the  Colonel,  gleefully; 
"  now,  actilly,  don't  it  ?" 

"And  you  are  going  to  marry  them  immedi- 
ately; before  the  other  ceremony?"  inquired 
the  Parson. 

"In  five  minutes  from  this  time,"  said  the 
Colonel,  looking  at  the  clock,  "  they'll  be  hus- 
band and  wife,  as  tight  as  ever  any  two  were 
tied,  I  tell  ye.  I  ain't  a  great  while  a  doin' 


TWICE    MARRIED.  237 

on't,"  said  he,  rubbing  his  hands,  "  but  I  do  it 
sartin." 

"  Come,"  said  Mrs.  Manners,  opening  the 
bedroom  door,  and  looking  out;  "the  certi- 
ficate is  written,  and  these  people  have  got  to 
go  into  the  other  State  to-night." 

"  From  Massachusetts,  then,  are  they  ?" 
asked  the  Parson. 

"  I  expect  so,"  replied  the  Colonel ;  "  but 
come,  I  want  you  to  stand  by  and  see  me  per- 
form. Why!  why!"  he  continued,  as  followed 
by  the  Parson  he  entered  the  bedroom,  "you 
hain't  taken  your  things  off.  That  ain't  a  goin' 
to  do.  You've  got  to  stay  to  supper,  now  I 
tell  ye." 

"I  don't  know  whether  we  can  or  not," 
said  the  man. 

"Perhaps  the  young  lady  will  be  more 
willin'  to  take  off  her  hood  after  she's  mar- 
ried," suggested  Mrs.  Manners. 

"Well,  well,"  cried  the  Colonel,  "it  don't 
make  no  difference,  I  expect,  so  let  her  wear 
her  bonnet  till  she  gets  ready  to  take  it  off. 
Now  then,  my  friends,  ef  you're  ready,  jest 
stand  up — that's  it — and  jine  hands — yes — take 


238  TWICE  MARRIED. 

holt  o'hands — that's  it.  Now,  Parson,  seein's 
you're  here,  ef  you'll  make  a  prayer  it'll  seem 
more  reglar  and  solemn.  You  needn't  be 
afeard,  Parson,"  he  added,  with  a  sly  look, 
"  there  ain't  no  statoot  agen  prayin',  jest  when 
you've  a  mind  to,  in  this  Christian  land." 

"No,  thank  God!"  cried  Parson  Graves, 
with  great  fervency :  and  immediately  shutting 
his  eyes  very  tight,  and  grasping  the  back  of  a 
chair,  he  began  to  invoke  the  blessing  of 
Heaven  upon  the  pending  marriage  rite,  and 
the  parties  who  were  thereby  to  be  joined. 

In  the  mean  time,  Miss  Tabitha,  who  had 
witnessed,  with  secret  uneasiness,  the  departure 
of  her  father  and  the  Colonel  from  the  parlor, 
and  whose  disquiet  had  increased  during  each 
moment  of  their  prolonged  absence,  was  at  last 
no  longer  able  to  restrain  either  her  curiosity 
or  her  desire  to  meddle  with  and  thwart  the 
business  of  the  occasion.  Slipping  from  the 
parlor,  therefore,  she  went  softly  out  into  the 
dining-room,  from  whence  she  was  guided  by 
the  sound  of  her  father's  voice  into  the  bed- 
room. Her  astonishment  and  displeasure  at 
the  spectacle  which  she  beheld  was  unbounded  ; 


TWICE    MARRIED.  239 

and  no  sooner  had  the  Parson  pronounced 
the  final  Amen  of  his  pious  invocation,  than 
Miss  Tabitha  precluded  the  Colonel  from 
resuming,  at  once,  his  part  in  the  ceremony, 
by  asking,  in  a  tone  of  great  asperity,  whether 
anybody  would  be  good  enough  to  oblige  her 
by  telling  her  what  was  going  on. 

"  You  can  see  for  yourself,  Miss  Tabby," 
said  the  Colonel,  trying  to  speak  jovially,  in 
order  to  hide  his  vexation,  "it's  a  weddin' !" 

"Ah!  a  wedding,  hey?"  cried  Miss  Tabitha, 
looking  towards  the  young  woman  with  a 
reproving  severity  of  aspect  that  was  truly 
appalling.  "And  may  1  be  allowed  to  ask 
what  wedding  it  is,  and  whose  it  is,  and  why 
it  takes  place  in  this  private  manner  ?" 

To  these  inquiries  Parson  Graves  proceeded 
to  make  reply.  "  The  Colonel,  here,"  said  he, 
with  a  deprecatory  manner,  "is  about  to 
marry  this  worthy  young  couple,  who,  by-the- 
by,  my  daughter,  have  never  been  published, 
in  order  to ." 

"  I  see,  I  see,"  cried  Miss  Tabitha,  with  a 
virulent  energy  of  tone  and  expression.  "  I 
see  it  all.  And  do  you  ma'am,"  she  asked, 


240  TWICE    MARRIED. 

turning  to  Mrs.  Manners,  "and  do  you,  a 
church-member,  and  a  Christian  mother,  coun- 
tenance such  awful  and  scandalous  improprie- 
ties?" 

"Ma'am!"  said  Mrs.  Manners,  reddening, 
"  improprieties,  did  you  say  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  improprieties,"  repeated  the 
virtuous  Miss  Tabitha ;  "  for  my  part,  I  must 
say  that  I  consider  a  form  of  marriage,  without 
a  previous  publishment,  as  highly  improper; 
yes,  ma'am,  grossly,  scandalously,  wickedly, 
sinfully  improper,  ma'am  ;  and  as  a  mere  form, 
and  no  marriage  at  all !" 

"I  guess,  ma'am,"  suddenly  cried  the  sharp 
voice  of  Mrs.  Sweeny,  whose  inflamed  visage 
at  this  moment  appeared  at  the  door,  "  I  guess, 
ma'am,  some  folks  would  be  mighty  glad  to 
get  married  themselves,  publishment  or  no 
publishment ;  and  it's  jest  because  nobody 
ain't  fool  enough  to  have  some  folks,  that  some 
folks  are  allus  wantin'  to  be  a  stickin'  their  nose 
inter  everybody  else's  business.  But  they  can't 
break  up  this  match;  no,  that's  what  they 
can't !" 

The  boundless  rage  and  astonishment  of  Miss 


TWICE    MAR1UED.  24:1 

Tabitha  at  this  speech  of  Mrs.  Sweeny's  can- 
not be  easily  described.  For  once  in  her  life, 
the  Deacon's  wife  found  herself  opposed  to  a 
more  wrathful  antagonist  than  even  herself. 
The  pair  stood  in  silence,  eying  each  other 
with  furious  and  contemptuous  glances.  The 
Deacon's  wife,  though  a  little  appalled  at  the 
idea  of  confronting  the  minister's  daughter, 
nevertheless  stood  her  ground  bravely.  She 
had  overheard,  in  the  parlor,  whispers  floating 
about,  that  Miss  Tabitha  had  hinted  the  wed- 
ding was  to  be  put  off,  and  that  the  Parson  had 
promised  her  that  he  would  not  perform  the 
ceremony.  She,  too,  had  marked  the  with- 
drawal of  the  Parson  and  the  Colonel  from  the 
parlor;  and,  when  Miss  Tabitha  made  her  exit 
also,  she  whispered  to  the  Deacon  to  go  and 
find  Joab,  and  then  followed  her  as  speedily  as 
was  consistent  with  seemly  appearances.  She 
had  arrived  at  the  bedroom  door  in  time  to 
hear  only  the  concluding  words  of  Miss  Tabi- 
tha's  declaration,  hereinbefore  duly  set  forth, 
the  which  she,  of  course,  supposed  was  spoken 
with  especial  reference  to  the  wedding  of  Lucy 

and  her  son  Joab. 
21 


242  TWICE    MARRIED. 

The  Colonel,  fearing  lest  an  unpleasant  col- 
lision should  take  place  between  the  two  ladies, 
who  stood  glowering  at  each  other,  made  haste 
to  interpose  and  to  explain. 

"You  needn't  be  agoin'  off  at  half  cock,  as 
usooal,  Axy,"  said  he.  "  Nobody  hain't  said  a 
word  agin  havin'  Joab  and  Lucy  reg'lary  jined. 
The  Parson  here  is  agoin'  to  do  that  job  jest  as 
quick  as  this  one's  over  that  I've  got  in  hand, 
which  I  am  a-doin'  of,  in  order  to  show  and 
convince  him  that  I  ain't  afeard,  and  he  needn't 
be." 

"What  job?"  cried  Mrs.  Sweeny. 

"  This  young  couple,  as  comes  from  out  of 
the  State,  and  wants  to  be  married,"  replied 
her  brother ;  "  they  hain't  been  published,  to 
be  sure,  no  more'n  Joab  and  Lucy  has,  but  I 
say  that  don't  make  no  odds." 

"  Of  course  it  don't,"  cried  Mrs.  Sweeny, 
wrho,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  would  have 
denounced  this  doctrine  as  fiercely  as  Miss 
Tabitha  herself.  "  They've  jest  as  good  a  right 
to  be  married  as  ef  they'd  a  ben  published  from 
the  house-tops,  and  had  a  gin  out  notice  by 
advertisin'  for  a  year  in  Hudson  and  Goodwin's 


TWICE    MARRIED.  243 

Connecticut  Courant ;  and,  if  anybody  says  they 
hain't,  I'd  jest  like  to  hear  the  reasons." 

These  concluding  words,  inasmuch,  especi- 
ally, as  the  speaker  had  accompanied  them  with 
a  scornful  glance  at  herself,  Miss  Tabitha  very 
justly  construed  as  a  challenge;  and,  in  spite 
of  the  admonitory  winks,  frowns,  and  gestures 
of  her  father,  she  forthwith  turned  upon  Mrs. 
Sweeny,  and  inquired  if  she  herself  would  be 
willing  to  be  married  in  that  way,  without  a 
publishment,  like  the  brutes  of  the  field. 

"As  for  me,"  replied  Mrs.  Sweeny,  "I've 
ben  married  myself  these  five-and-twenty  year, 
and  my  husband  is  still  alive ." 

"  It's  a  wonder,"  muttered  Miss  Tabitha. 

"  And  it  ain't  proper  for  me,  Miss  Tabby," 
continued  Mrs.  Sweeny,  with  increased  bitter- 
ness, "to  be  a  sayin'  that  I'd  be  willin'  to  be 
married  this  way  or  that  way ;  but  jest  let  me 
ask  you,  mum,  and  answer  it  accordin'  to  your 
conscience;  wouldn't  you  jump  at  the  chance 
o'  marryin'  any  decent  white  man,  ef  you  could 
git  him,  publishment  or  no  publishment?" 

At  this  home  question,  Miss  Tabitha  was  al- 
most beside  herself  with  wrath  and  spite. 


244  TWICE    MARRIED. 

"I'd  have  you  to  know,  ma'am,"  said  she,  in  a 
hissing  whisper,  "that  if  I'd  pleased,  I  could 
have  been  married  to  a  dozen!" 

"  All  to  once,  mum  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Sweeny, 
who  had  obtained  the  advantage  in  the  battle. 

"But  I've  always  preferred,  ma'am,"  conti- 
nued Miss  Tabitha,  scorning  to  notice  the  in- 
terruption, "and  I  still  prefer  to  live  single, 
ma'am,  and " 

Here  Miss  Tabitha,  overhearing  her  antago- 
nist mutter  something  about  sour  grapes, 
suffered  her  rage  to  wax  so  violent  that  words 
suddenly  failed  her. 

While  this  acrimonious  debate  was  going  on, 
the  strange  young  woman  had  been  violently 
agitated ;  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  support 
of  her  lover's  arm,  which  he  put  about  her 
waist,  she  would  have  been  scarcely  able  to 
stand.  Mrs.  Manners  went  up  and  whispered 
encouragement;  and  at  last  the  Colonel,  per- 
ceiving her  emotion,  determined  to  put  a  stop 
to  its  cause. 

Mrs.  Sweeny  had  just  uttered  a  scornful 
laugh,  by  way  of  prelude  to  another  attack  in 
words,  when  the  Colonel  interposed. 


TWICE    MARRIED.  245 

"Now  jest  stop,  Axy,"  said  he,  "jest  shet 
pan,  now  I  tell  ye,  and  don't  open  your  face 
again.  I'm  agoin'  to  jine  this  couple  right 
away.  They  think  it's  proper  to  be  jined,  and 
I  think  it's  proper  to  jine  'em,  and  ef  anybody 
else  don't  like  it  they're  free  to  clear  out." 

Hereupon  Miss  Tabitha  sailed  out  of  the 
room  with  great  dignity,  muttering  as  she 
went,  at  which  Mrs.  Sweeny  could  not,  for  the 
life  of  her,  forbear  coughing  and  hemming  with 
great  significance. 

"  And  if  nobody  else  ain't  willin',  after  that, 
to  jine  Lucy  and  Joab,"  resumed  the  Colonel, 
"why  I'll  do  it  myself  while  my  hand's  in; 
for  I've  took  a  solemn  oath  on  that  pint,  and 
I  ain't  agoin'  to  have  it  broken.  Now  then, 
my  friends,  ef  you're  ready  agin',  we'll  go 
through  this  time  without  a  halt.  Jine  hands 
— there — attention  the  whole — Do  you,  sir," 
he  continued,  "take  this  woman  to  be  your 
wife,  and  do  you  promise  to  love,  honor, 
cherish  and  maintain  her  as  long  as  God  gives 
you  life,  health  and  ability  so  to  do?" 

"  I  do,  sir,"  responded  the  gruff  voice  of  the 
bridegroom. 


246  TWICE    MARRIED. 

"And  do  you,  young  woman,  take  this  man 
to  be  your  husband ;  and  do  you  promise  to 
love,  honor,  cherish  and  obey  him,  till  death 
do  you  part?"  said  the  Colonel. 

"I  do,"  whispered  the  bride,  in  a  voice  that 
was  scarcely  audible. 

"Then,"  continued  the  Colonel,  with  a  little 
pomposity  of  manner  and  inflation  of  tone, 
"  by  the  authority  of  the  State  of  Connecticut, 
in  me  duly  vested  for  that  purpose,  I  pronounce 
you  to  be  husband  and  wife;  and  what  God 
has  jined,  let  not  man  put  asunder." 

At  the  Colonel's  request,  Parson  Graves  then 
made  another  brief  prayer,  and  as  soon  as  it 
was  concluded  the  Colonel  went  up  and  shook 
hands  with  the  bridegroom,  and  kissed  the 
bride ;  an  example  which  was  speedily  imitated 
by  his  wife,  who  seemed  to  have  taken  a  great 
interest  in  the  newly-wedded  pair. 

"And  now  where's  the  stifakit!"  said  the 
Colonel.  "I  hain't  got  my  specs,"  he  added, 
as  he  sat  down  at  the  desk  and  took  a  pen  to 
sign  the  document  which  Mrs.  Manners  had 
prepared;  "but  it's  all  right,  I  expect."  His 
wife  nodded,  and  the  Colonel  subscribed  his 


TWICE    MARRIED.  247 

came  with  a  flourish.  "  There,"  said  he,  rising 
and  handing  the  paper  to  the  bride,  who  took 
it  with  trembling  fingers;  "there  mum,  you're 
married  now,  jest  as  tight  as  ef  a  bishop  had 
published  the  bans  and  performed  the  cere- 
mony; and  there's  the  evidence  in  black  and 
white,  which  can't  very  well  be  got  'round  or 
contradicted." 

"  Jest  as  tight,"  repeated  Mrs.  Sweeny  with 
a  triumphantly  spiteful  glance  through  the  door- 
way at  Miss  Tabitha,  who  still  remained  in  the 
dining-room. 

"And  now,"  continued  the  Colonel,  "I  in- 
sist on  you  taking  off  your  things  and  going 
into  the  best  room,  where  there's  to  be  another 
weddin'  right  away,  and  arter  that  you  must 
stay  to  supper,  and  all  night,  too,  for  that  mat- 
ter, if  you  will,  and  welcome." 

"I'll  see  to  that,  husband,"  said  Mrs.  Man- 
ners, turning  very  pale;  "and  I  wish  that 
you'd  wait  a  bit  here,  for  I'd  like  to  have  a 
word  with  you  before " 

At  this  gentle  hint,  Parson  Graves,  Mrs. 
Sweeny,  the  Deacon  and  Joab  went  out  one 
after  another,  Mrs.  Sweeny  last  of  all,  closing 


248  TWICE    MARRIED. 

the  door  behind  her  with  a  slam.  Mrs.  Man- 
ners stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  going  quickly  to  her  husband, 
she  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  began 
to  sob  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"Good  natur!"  exclaimed  the  Colonel,  infi- 
nitely surprised  at  this  unexpected  demonstra- 
tion. But  before  he  had  time  to  utter  another 
word  he  was  completely  astounded  by  having 
the  newly-wedded  bride  seize  his  hand,  and 
drop  upon  her  knees  at  his  feet,  crying  and 
sobbing,  all  the  while,  as  violently  as  his  wife 
did. 

"What  on  airth!  why!"  ejaculated  the 
Colonel;  "why!  why!  what  on  airth !" 

"Remember  your  promise  last  night,"  sobbed 
his  wife.  "Don't  speak  harshly  to  me,  hus- 
band ;  and  yet,  if  you  scold  anybody,  scold  at 
me.  It's  all  my  doing  and  contriving." 

"No,  sir,"  said  the  tall  bridegroom,  taking  a 
part  in  the  colloquy ;  but  speaking,  not  in  the 
gruff  tone  in  which  he  had  hitherto  spoken, 
"  it's  all  my  fault,  if  fault  it  be.  I'm  the  one 
that's  to  blame." 

"Why!"    who    be    you?"    exclaimed    the 


TWICE    MARRIED.  249 

Colonel.     "  I  seem  to  know  your  voice ;  but 

__^__  55 

"It's  me,  sir — John  Dashleigh !"  said  the 
bridegroom,  pulling  off  his  false  whiskers  and 
his  wig,  and  then,  after  that,  standing  very 
straight  and  upright,  and  looking  very  pale, 
with  a  slight  shade  of  a  defiant  expression, 
also,  visible  upon  his  features. 

The  Colonel's  amazement  made  him  well 
nigh  speechless.  "And — and — you!"  he  stam- 
mered, lifting  the  bride  up  from  her  knees, 
and  turning  back  her  hood  until  he  saw  the 
face  that  it  concealed.  "Lucy  Manners!  as 
I'm  a  livin'  man!"  he  added,  pushing  her  from 
him  and  sitting  down  in  his  chair. 

"Forgive  them,  husband!"  cried  Mrs.  Man- 
ners, clinging  to  his  neck;  "and  forgive  me, 
too,  for  I  advised  them  to  it." 

"Forgive  me,  father!  dear  father!"  sobbed 
Lucy,  clasping  his  knees. 

As  for  John  Dashleigh  toe  stood  still,  near 
the  foot  of  the  bed,  with  his  arms  folded  across 
his  breast,  and  growing  pale  and  ruddy  by 
turns. 

Colonel    Manners   remained    sitting  in    his 


250  TWICE    MARRIED. 

chair,  with  his  lips  compressed,  and  his  fea- 
tures working.  At  last,  when,  after  a  stout 
and  earnest  struggle,  he  had  conquered  the 
first  impulse  of  his  angry  surprise,  he  ventured 
to  speak. 

"I  ain't  a  goin'  to  say  anything  hash  or 
ugly  to  you,  Betsey,"  said  he,  enunciating 
each  word  carefully,  and  with  deliberation, 
"I  never  have  done  that  yet,  and  I  never 
will;  but  I  tell  ye,  Betsey,  I'm  sorely  disap- 
pinted  and  grieved.  But  I  don't  keer  half 
so  much  about  a  plan's  bein'  broke  up  that 
I've  laid  out  nigh  twenty  year  ago,  and  'lotted 
on,  and  hoped  to  see  accomplished  to-night, 
as  I  do  to  find  the  wife  of  my  bosom,  that 
I've  allus  trusted,  a  deceivin'  on  me  and  a 
plottin'  agin  me." 

"Husband!"  said  Mrs.  Manners,  "hear  me 
before  you  say  such  cruel  words  again !  I 
may  have  deceived  you,  but  I  have  told  you 
no  untruths.  I  may  have  deceived  you,  but 
I  have  meant  it  all  for  good;  for  your  good 
as  well  as  Lucy's.  As  for  your  disappoint- 
ment, I  am  sure  that  Lucy  never  would  have 
married  Joab  ." 


TWICE    MARRIED.  251 

"I'd  have  died  first,"  said  Lucy,  passion- 
ately. 

"Your  seventy  might  have  killed  her."  re- 
sumed her  mother,  "but  it  would  have  been 
better  for  her  to  die,  than  to  live  the  wife 
of  such  a  man  as  Joab  Sweeny.  If  she  could 
have  loved  him,  I  would  have  been  willing 
to  see  her  sacrificed  to  your  cherished  project. 
But  she  did  not,  she  could  not  love  him ;  she 
told  you  so:  she  declared  to  you  that  she 
never  would  marry  him,  and  she  has  never 
since  recanted." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Colonel,  "and,  at  the  same 
time,  I  took  a  solemn  oath  which  must  be 
kep.  I  must  keep  my  oaths,  Betsey.  They 
ain't  like  other  words  and  can't  be  trifled 
with.  Ef  Miss  Lucy  is  so  sot  in  her  ways 
that  she  couldn't  back  down  from  what  she 
said,  no  can't  I,  nutherj  'specially  as  I've 
swore  to't." 

"But  Lucy  has  fulfilled  the  condition  of 
that  oath  to  the  very  letter!"  said  Mrs.  Man- 
ners eagerly.  "I  promised  that  she  should 
do  so,  and  I've  fulfilled  my  engagement,  too. 
Here  is  your  oath,  your  very  words,  written 


252  TWICE    MARRIED. 

down  at  the  time,  and  your  name  put  to  it 
with  your  own  hand.  See — hear — she  has 
been  married — on  Thanksgiving  night — to  her 
cousin — not  to  Joab  Sweeny,  to  be  sure,  but 
to  John  Dashleigh,  who  is  no  less  her  cousin, 
and  who  is  the  man  whom  she  loves  better 
than  all  the  world,  and  who  loves  her  as  well. 
She  was  married  in  this  house;  and  that  it 
was  in  your  presence,  and  with  your  consent, 
can't  well  be  denied,  when  you  yourself  pro- 
nounced the  words  that  made  them  lawful 
husband  and  wife." 

"Le's  see  the  paper,"  cried  the  Colonel, 
holding  out  one  hand  to  take  it,  while,  with 
the  other,  he  vigorously  rubbed  his  forehead. 
Then  he  got  up  out  of  his  chair,  put  on  his 
spectacles  and  went  to  the  desk  where  the 
candle  was  burning,  and  deliberately  read  and 
re-read  the  oath  that  was  written  on  the 
paper. 

"Didn't  I  'say  your  cousin  Joab,'  Betsey?" 
he  asked  at  length. 

"No,  no,"  cried  his  wife,  "I  am  sure  you 
didn't.  I  took  particular  notice  at  the  time." 

"Purty  well,  purty  well,"  said  he,  at  last, 


TWICE    MARRIED.  253 

looking  down  over  his  glasses  at  poor  little 
Lucy,  who  still  remained  on  her  knees,  with 
her  hands  clasped,  her  hair  falling  down  all 
over  her  shoulders,  (for  she  had  pulled  off 
her  hood  and  false  curls,)  and  gazing  up  at 
her  father's  face  with  an  eager,  piteous  expres- 
sion of  anxiety  and  hope.  "I  suppose,  you 
little  hussy,  you  think  you've  ben  pretty  smart 
to  get  round  your  old  father  in  this  cute  way, 
don't  you?" 

"  Oh !  don't  be  angry  any  more !"  cried  Lucy, 
putting  up  her  hands  and  shaking  her  head 
in  the  earnestness  of  her  petition;  "forgive 
me,  oh!  do,  papa,  and  forgive  John,  and 
mother." 

"  Forgive  John !"  replied  her  father,  "  humph ! 
I  can't  say  as  I  blame  John  a  mite." 

"Thank  you,  thank  you,  uncle  Starr!"  cried 
John  impetuously,  and  forthwith  bursting  out 
a-crying  like  the  other  two  culprits.  "Oh! 
uncle,  uncle — I — I — couldn't  help  it — if  there'd 
been  the  least  hope  of  gaining  your  consent, 
even  by  waiting  ten  years,  I'd  have  waited 
and  toiled  as  Jacob  did  ;  but,  you  know ." 


254  TWICE    MARRIED. 

"And  I  love  John  so  much,"  cried  Lucy; 
"and  I  hate  Joab  so  awfully,  I'd  never  have 
married  him  if  he'd  been  the  only  man  in 
the  world,  and  I'd  never  seen  John." 

"Forgive,  forgive,  whispered  Mrs.  Manners, 
taking  her  husband's  hand. 

"Uncle,"  began  John  Dashleigh,  "if  you 
will  forgive  us,  my  whole  life  shall  be  one 
constant  endeavor  to  make  you  amends  for 
the  disappointment  which  I  have  caused  you 
to  suffer  to-night." 

"And  mine,  too,"  said  little  Lucy,  coax- 
ingly.  Mrs.  Manners  pressed  her  husband's 
hand  and  whispered  softly ;  "  and  mine." 

Ever  since  he  had  read  the  oath  the  Colo- 
nel's face  had  been  gradually  softening,  until 
the  benevolent  good-humored  expression  which 
usually  was  visible  there  had  nearly  regained 
its  accustomed  supremacy.  He  returned  the 
pressure  of  his  wife's  hand,  and  then  addressed 
Lucy — "And  do  you  love  John,  you  little 
jade?"  said  he. 

"Oh!  yes,  papa!"  replied  Lucy,  who  was 
still  on  her  knees,  catching  hold  of  John's 


TWICE    MARRIED.  255 

sleeve,  and  trying  to  pull  him  down  into  the 
same  position  by  her  side;  "I  love  him  better 
than  anything!" 

"Better'n  me,  I  expect,  and  your  mother?" 

"Y — yes,"  replied  Lucy,  a  little  fearful  of 
confessing  the  truth,  lest  it  might  give  of- 
fense ;  "  but,  then — so — so — very  differently  you 
know!" 

"And  you,  John,"  continued  the  Colonel, 
"do  you  love  Lucy  as  well  as  she  says  she 
does  you?" 

"I  love  her  with  all  my  heart,  uncle,"  re- 
plied John  with  a  quaver  in  his  tone. 

"Humph!"  said  the  Colonel,  "uncle,  in- 
deed! arter  this,  young  man,  you  needn't  call 
me  uncle  any  more!" 

"What  then?"  asked  John,  with  a  little 
trepidation ;  while  Lucy  and  her  mother  waited 
anxiously  for  the  reply. 

"Why,"  said  the  Colonel;  "I  guess  you'd 
better  call  me  what  your  wife  does,  and  be 
gettin'  used  to't." 

At  this  speech  Lucy  laughed  outright  and 
clapped  her  hands:  first,  because  she  knew 
that  if  all  was  not  yet  forgiven  there  were 


256  TWICE    MARRIED. 

good  signs  that  it  would  be,  right  speedily; 
and,  secondly,  because  it  sounded  so  drolly 
to  her  to  be  called  a  wife.  Then  she  got  up 
from  her  knees  in  a  hurry,  and  threw  her 
arms  round  her  father's  neck,  and  hugged  him 
with  all  her  might,  kissing  him  at  every 
breath;  while  the  Colonel  was  rendered  to- 
tally incapable  of  defending  himself  against 
this  attack,  by  reason  of  the  conduct  of  John 
Dashleigh  and  Mrs.  Manners,  who  each  held 
one  of  his  hands. 

At  this  juncture  the  bedroom  door  was  sud- 
denly thrown  open,  and  the  group  which  I 
have  just  described  was  thereby  exposed  to 
the  astonished  gaze  of  a  crowd  of  people  in 
the  dining-room,  foremost  of  whom  stood  forth 
Mrs.  Sweeny  and  Joab.  In  the  rear  were 
gathered  the  Deacon,  Parson  Graves,  Miss 
Tabitha,  Susan,  and  the  whole  suite  of  grooms- 
men and  bridesmaids,  while  beyond  them  all 
appeared  the  pale,  anxious  face  of  Mrs.  Dash- 
leigh, with  little  Ellen  standing  by  her  side. 

When  Lucy  looked  up  from  her  father's 
shoulder  she  encountered  the  glance  of  mingled 
amazement,  alarm  and  fiery  indignation  with 


TWICE    MARRIED.  257 

which  her  aunt  Sweeny  regarded  the  scene, 
which  had  been  revealed  by  the  bursting  open 
of  the  door;  and  hastily  releasing  her  father 
from  the  embrace  in  which  he  had  been 
straightly  confined,  she  caught  hold  of  John, 
and  then,  being  reassured  by  feeling  her  hus- 
band's arm  stealing  around  her  waist,  her  fea- 
tures assumed  a  wonderfully  pretty  expression 
of  defiance. 

"Law!  see  that!"  exclaimed  Miss  Tabitha; 
"hugging  in  company — well — !" 

"Ah — what — ,"  began  Mrs.  Sweeny,  and 
forthwith  broke  down. 

"There  ain't  no  use  o'  keepin'  things  back," 
said  the  Colonel,  advancing  a  step  to  the  door- 
way; "what's  happened  is  very  strange,  and 
sudden,  and  unexpected,  and  the  whys  and 
the  wherefores  '11  have  to  be  explained  at 
some  future  time.  What's  done  can't  be 
helped,  this  time  anyway,  for  it's  of  a  natur 
that  can't  be  undid,  and  there  ain't  no  use  a 
kickin'  agin  it,  not  a  bit.  You've  got  to  hear 
it,  Axy;  and  you  too,  Joab,  and  everybody's 
got  to  hear  it  and  know  it;  and  you  may 
jest  as  well  hear  on't  now  as  ever.  You'll 


258  TWICE    MARRIED. 

bile,  and  I  shan't  blame  ye,  ef  you  don't  bile 
over;  but  be  as  moderate  as  you  can.  The 
fact  is,  that  unbeknown  to  me,  at  least  in  one 
sense,  John  Dashleigh  here  has  jest  up  and 
married  my  darter  Lucy,  and  she's  up  and 
married  him,  and  what's  more,  I,  unbeknown 
to  myself,  in  a  sartin  sense,  was  the  one  that 
up  and  married  'em  both!" 

There  was  a  general  exclamation  of  sur- 
prise, which  was  by  no  means  a  whisper ;  but 
Mrs.  Sweeny's  scream  of  rage  and  disappoint- 
ment was  so  very  vociferous,  that  the  crowd  of 
guests  in  the  parlor  came  thronging  out  in  alarm, 
to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  piercing  outcry. 
The  scene  which  was  discovered  by  these 
new-comers  was  one  which  they  never  forgot, 
I  warrant  you.  In  the  bedroom  door-way 
stood  the  stout  form  of  the  master  of  the 
house,  serving  as  a  bulwark  against  the  violent 
efforts  that  Mrs.  Sweeny  put  forth  to  enter, 
for  the  purpose  of  administering  corporeal 
chastisement  upon  the  persons  of  the  newly- 
married  pair.  Lucy,  frightened  out  of  half 
her  wits  at  the  extremity  of  her  aunt's  rage, 
and  the  awful  threats  which  she  constantly 


TWICE    MARRIED.  259 

uttered,  clung  to  her  husband's  arm  for  pro- 
tection ;  while  John  himself,  proud  and  hap- 
py, but  still  a  little  apprehensive  lest  the 
virago  should  break  through  the  Colonel's 
defense,  stood  ready  to  succeed  him  "  i'  the  im- 
minent deadly  breach,"  in  case  of  need.  Mrs. 
Manners'  usually  rosy  face,  pale  with  excite- 
ment, appeared  in  the  recesses  of  the  bedroom. 
Joab,  completly  astounded  and  crest-fallen, 
stood  beside  his  father  ;  and,  just  behind  the 
pair,  the  sharp  visage  of  Miss  Tabitha  was  visible, 
radiant  with  exultation  at  the  disappointment 
of  her  late  victorious  antagonist,  the  Deacon's 
wife.  The  Parson  had  failed  to  comprehend 
the  explanation  which  the  Colonel  had  given, 
and,  being  prevented  by  the  universal  con- 
fusion from  learning  the  truth  concerning  the 
matter,  remained  standing  in  the  midst  of  the 
chattering  bridesmaids  and  groomsmen,  the 
image  of  perplexed  amazement.  In  a  corner 
of  the  dining-room  Mrs.  Dashleigh,  with  her 
arms  around  little  Ellen,  was  weeping  with 
joy  ;  and  in  the  open  door- way  to  the  kitchen 
was  crowded  a  score  of  black  faces,  each 


260  TWICE    MARRIED. 

expressive   of  the   most  intense  wonder  and 
eager  curiosity. 

At  length,  Mrs.  Sweeny,  finding  all  her 
attempts  to  force  a  passage  into  the  bedroom 
rendered  utterly  abortive  by  the  Colonel's  pas- 
sive but  effectual  resistance,  suddenly  made  a 
move  towards  the  long  table,  and  seizing  hold  of 
one  end,  she  strove  with  all  her  might  to  overset 
it.  But  her  excessive  rage  had  made  her  impo- 
tent ;  and  she  succeeded  only  in  displacing  a 
few  dishes,  which  fell  to  the  floor  and  were 
broken,  before  she  was  restrained  from  com- 
mitting further  mischief  by  the  interposition 
of  a  dozen  hands.  Then  she  gave  another 
scream  and  fell  away  into  a  swoon,  from 
which,  however,  she  speedily  recovered;  for 
Miss  Tabitha  Graves  happening  to  express  her 
desire  to  be  informed  with  respect  to  Mrs. 
Sweeny's  present  sentiments,  concerning  the 
propriety  of  celebrating  a  marriage  ceremony 
without  a  publication  of  intention,  this  re- 
mark proved  to  be  a  most  excellent  restora- 
tive, more  pungent  and  efficacious  than  either 
hartshorn,  camphor,  or  burnt  feathers  ;  as  was 


TWICE    MAKRIED.  261 

made  manifest  by  Mrs.  Sweeny's  coming  to  as 
soon  as  it  was  uttered,  and  replying  at  once  to 
Miss  Tabitha's  inquiry,  in  a  manner  more 
earnest  than  polite.  And  when  the  Colonel 
at  last  ventured  to  remonstrate  against  a 
further  continuance  of  her  abusive  language 
and  behavior,  she  called  to  her  husband,  and 
with  the  Deacon  and  Joab  set  out  for  home,  to 
the  great  relief  of  everybody,  declaring,  as  she 
went,  that  she  would  never  again  set  foot  in 
the  house  while  she  breathed  the  breath  of 
life. 

When  she  had  fairly  gone,  it  seemed  like  a 
calm  after  a  storm  ;  and  after  a  little  whisper- 
ing about  among  themselves,  the  other  guests 
began  to  talk  aloud  about  taking  leave;  the 
which  when  it  came  to  the  Colonel's  ears  he 
soon  put  a  stop  to.  For,  going  to  where  the 
P.irson  and  his  daughter  were  standing,  he 
spoke  loud  enough  to  be  overheard  by  the 
attentive  crowd — "  Miss  Tabitha,"  said  he,  "I 
must  confess  I'm  purty  much  converted  to 
your  way  o'  thinkin',  as,  indeed,  I  most  allus 
am,  arter  a  spell  of  experience.  This  gettin' 
married  by  a  justice  of  the  peace,  though 


262  TWICE    MARRIED. 

strictly  accordin'  to  statoot,  ain't,  arter  all,  so 
satisfactory  as  when  the  jinin'  's  done  by  a 
reglar  ordained  minister  of  the  Gospel.  Now 
this  young  couple  that  I  put  together  to-night 
ain't  ben  published,  to  be  sure,  but  I've  gin 
'em  sich  a  start  that  there  ain't  no  gettin' 
back;  and  I  calkilate  that,  ef  the  Parson 
here  '11  kind  o'  do  it  over  arter  me,  what  with 
what  I've  done,  and  what  he'll  do,  the  marri- 
age '11  be  about  as  valid  as  ef  they'd  ben 
reglarly  published  in  the  fust  place.  I've 
jined  'em  kind  o'  rough  cornered,  but  yer 
father  '11  finish  it,  you  see,  as  it  were." 

Miss  Tabitha,  being  in  a  very  exultant  and 
self-complacent  frame  of  mind,  was  easily 
disposed  to  be  flattered  by  the  Colonel's 
speaking  to  her  in  this  fashion,  and  seeming  in 
manner,  if  not  in  words,  to  ask  her  advice  and 
counsel.  "For  my  own  part,"  said  she,  "I'm 
sure  I'd  rather  go  to  Newgate  than  to  be  married 
to  the  best  man  in  the  world;  and  I  would 
advise  every  other  young  maiden,  who  is  not 
too  far  entangled,  to  be  of  the  mind  which  has 
kept  me  single  for  so  many — at  least  for  a  few 
years ;  during  which  I  have  had  so  many  oppor- 


TWICE    MARRIED.  263 

tunities  to  change  my  condition.  But,  as  you 
observed,  Colonel  Manners,  your  daughter, 
although  I  do  not,  to  be  sure,  regard  her  as 
actually  and  truly  married,  still  has,  without 
doubt,  gone  too  far  with  Mr.  Dashleigh  to  be 
able  to  retrace  her  steps.  I  think,  therefore, 
as  you  desire  my  opinion,  that,  under  the 
circumstances,  papa  had  better  give  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  usual  and  proper  religious  cere- 
mony to  their  union.  But  poor  things !" 
continued  Miss  Tabitha,  sighing,  and  shaking 
her  head,  "though  doubtless  Mr.  Dashleigh  is 
a  very  worthy  young  man,  at  least  I  trust  he 
is,  still  I  cannot  help  pitying  her  from  the 
very  bottom  of  my  heart !" 

"Oh!  yes!  poor  thing!"  echoed  Miss  Tabi- 
tha's  staff  of  old  maids,  who  by  this  time  had 
again  surrounded  their  chief. 

"Well,  then,  Parson,  what  do  you  say?" 
cried  the  Colonel,  who,  to  tell  the  truth,  seemed 
to  feel  quite  jolly,  notwithstanding  his  late 
disappointment — "will  you  consent  to  polish 
off  my  rough-hewing?" 

"Of  course  he  will,  Colonel  Manners,"  said 
Miss  Tabitha,  with  a  gracious  smile;  for  the 


264  TWICE    MARRIED. 

Parson,  who  did  not  yet  fully  understand  what 
had  happened,  was  hesitating  what  to  reply. 

So,  an  hour  afterwards,  in  the  best  room,  (this 
time)  John  and  Lucy,  already  husband  and 
wife,  stood  up  to  be  married  over  again ;  and, 
(though  I  say  it  that  shouldn't)  since  Adam  and 
Eve,  a  handsomer  couple  were  never  seen. 

And  now  my  story  has  reached  its  end.  Au- 
thors are  wont  to  consider  their  duty  well 
performed,  and  their  task  well  concluded,  when 
they  have  contrived  to  bring  their  heroes  and 
heroines,  through  many  tribulations  and  dan- 
gers, to  the  altar  of  Hymen,  and  once  joined 
the  hands  of  the  happy  lovers  in  lawful  wed- 
lock. But  I,  conscious  of  the  demerits  of  my 
tale,  am  fearful  that  one  wedding  will  not  be 
enough  to  save  it  from  condemnation.  So,  in 
the  hope  of  bribing  my  gentle  reader  to  look 
with  favor  on  my  humble  endeavor,  I  have 
thrown  in  another,  and  have  exhibited  for  his 
delectation  the  rare  spectacle  of  the  hero  and 
heroine  of  a  story  TWICE  MARRIED  to  each 
other. 


PUTNAM'S    MONTHLY, 
A.   M 


OP 


fihrahtn,  Snnuc,  Hitir 

AN 

ENTIRELY  ORIGINAL  AMERICAN  WORK. 


Published   Monthly,  and  may  be  obtained  of  Book- 
sellers, News  Agents,  or  of  the  Publishers. 


/.  G.  Whittier^s  Opinion  of  Putnam's  Monthly. 

(From  the  National  Era.) 

PUTNAM'S  MONTHLY. — Among  the  multitude  of  liter- 
ary publications  which  fall  under  our  notice — many  of 
them  of  decided  merit — we  have  no  hesitation  in  assign- 
ing the  first  place  to  Putnam's  Monthly  Magazine.  We 
have  watched  it  with  a  good  deal  of  interest  from  the  out- 
set, and  while  its  singular  literary  ability  has  suffered  no 
diminution,  we  have  been  gratified  by  noting  a  higher  tone 
and  aim  in  its  leading  articles — more  breath  and  freedom, 
and  a  more  courageous  expression  of  opinion.  It  main- 
tains the  right  of  calm,  manly  discussion  of  all  subjects  of 
popular  interest— the  delicate  question  of  slavery,  and  the 
indelicate  one  of  Mormonism. 

It  coolly  ignores  the  fashionable  taboo  of  disputed  points 
of  metaphysics,  theology  ;  and  politics.  It  is  really  refresh- 
ing to  see,  at  last,  an  American  periodical  who?e  writers 
are  not  nervously  apprehensive  of  what  '•  Mrs.  Grundy 
may  say;"  whose  free,  manly  utterance  betray  no  con- 


Z  OPINIONS    OP    THE    PRESS 

sciousness  of  the  presence  of  that  ubiquitous  old  lady, 
who  has  tied  pulpit  and  press  to  her  apron-strings.  Its 
political  articles  have  the  vigor  und  sprightliness  of  those 
of  Blackwood,  without  the  savage  personalities  and  slang, 
which  too  often  characterize  the  latter. 

In  its  purely  literary  department,  we  question  whether 
it  has  any  equal  on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Tenny- 
son. Carlisle,  and  De  Quincy  occasionally  write  for  English 
magazines,  but  neither  of  them  can  be  regarded  as  a  reg- 
ular contributor.  Setting  these  aside,  what  names  have 
Blackwood,  or  Tail's,  or  Dublin  University  Magazine,  to 
offer,  which  will  compare  with  those  of  Bryant,  Longfellow, 
Curtis,  Melville,  Russell  Lowell,  and  Bayard  Taylor  ? 
Lowell's  "Hymn  to  my  Fire,"  and  Longfellow's  "Two 
Angels,"  will  certainly  not  suffer  in  comparison  with  any 
modern  English  poetry.  In  light  prose  literature,  we 
know  of  nothing,  since  the  inimitable  essays  of  Elia,  which 
we  should  estimate  above  the  graceful  series  of  papers 
contributed  by  Curtis — "  My  Chateux,"  "  The  Sea  from 
the  Shore."  and  "  Tidbottom's  Spectacles." 

The  critical  department  of  the  Magazine  is  conducted  in 
a  manly,  independent  spirit,  and  with  an  evident  recogni- 
tion of  the  "  higher, law"  of  truth  and  justice. 

The  success  which  has  attended  the  publication,  thus 
far,  is  due  to  its  intrinsic  merit  alone,  and  not  to  puffery 
and  extravagant  pretensions  on  the  part  of  its  proprietors. 
Trusting  to  the  good  sense  and  discrimination  of  the  pub- 
lic, they  have  resorted  to  none  of  those  u  tricks  of  trade" 
which  have  of  late  disgraced  alike  publishers  and  authors. 
If  our  word  of  honest  approval  shall  induce  any  of  our 
readers  to  subscribe  for  the  Magazine,  we  have  no  fear 
whatever  of  being  called  to  account  by  them,  for  intro- 
ducing to  their  firesides  an  unwelcome  monthly  visitor. 

j.  G.  W. 

PUTNAM'S  MONTHLY. — This  vigorous  and  independent 
magazine  appears  to  increase  in  energy  and  value  with 
every  new  issue.  There  is  a  raciness  and  good  sense  in 
most  of  the  articles  which  at  once  attracts  the  attention  of 
the  reader,  and  whether  he  agrees  or  differs  with  the  senti- 
ments they  contain  (for  all  sides  are  represented,  and  all 
the  disputed  questions  of  the  day  discussed),  he  must  ad- 
mit that  they  are  written  with  force  and  originality,  and 


ON  PUTNAM'S  MONTHLY,  3 

presented  with  a  manly  straight-forwardness  which  in 
these  days  of  literary  servility,  cannot  be  too  highly 
recommended. 

This  magazine  is  thoroughly  American,  though  not  in 
the  cheap  and  vulgar  sense  which  partly  attaches  to  the 
name.  It  is  the  organ  of  cultivated  Young  America,  and 
every  article  is  written  expressly  for  its  pages.  Tt  amis 
at  the  expression  of  the  newest  and  best  sentiments  of 
the  times  ;  it  would  strive  for  the  highest  ideas,  for  the 
noblest  progress,  and  the  freest  toleration  of  opinion. 

To  all.  then,  who  would  encourage  these  principles  and 
sustain  intellectual  freedom. — who  would  read  the  newest 
poetry  by  American  authors,  the  best  literary  criticism 
fearlessly  and  honestly  expressed,  and  take  home  to  their 
families  a  magazine,  genial  in  its  temper,  refined  and  ele- 
vated in  its  tone,  calculated  to  develop  and  invigorate  the 
mind. — we  say  with  all  our  hearts,  "  subscribe  for  Put- 
nam."— Boston  Evening  Transcript. 

Tn  the  present  age.  when  truly,  :t  of  the  making  of  books 
there  is  no  end,"  the  man  who  writes  and  the  publisher 
who  publishes  a  good  book,  may  each  of  them  be  con- 
sidered a  public  benefactor.  And  the  same  may  be  said 
of  the  publisher  of  a  good  magazine.  Upon  the  last  there 
is  an  especial  and  peculiar  responsibility.  From  month  to 
month  he  has  to  cater  to  the  taste  of  a  great  variety  of 
readers,  ranging  "  from  grave  to  gay.  from  li  vely  to  severe  ;" 
to  furnish  matter  suited  to  these  different  tastes,  to  give 
to  each  their  portion  in  due  season,  and  at  the  same  time 
avoid  offending  the  most  fastidious  taste.  He  who  suc- 
ceeds in  doing  this,  and  gives  to  his  readers  the  best  pro- 
ductions of  the  American  mind — articles  of  a  high  literary 
character,  and  of  the  best  moral  tone — may  be  considered 
a  successful  man.  Mr.  Putnam  made  the  experiment  of 
endeavoring  to  establish  a  magazine  that  could  be  pre- 
eminently American,  and  one  that  should  be  worthy  to  be 
sustained  by  the  lovers  of  sterling  and  genuine  home  litera- 
ture, and  most  nobly  did  he  succeed  in  his  experiment. 
Recently  the  magazine  has  come  into  the  hands  of  Messrs. 
Ihx  &  Edwards,  10  Park  Place,  New  York,  and  so  far  it 
loses  nothing  by  the  change.  Judging  from  the  table  of 
contents  and  a  brief  glance  at  the  different  articles  in  the 
June  number,  it  is  certainly  equal  to  any  magazine  of  the 
kind  ever  published  in  this  country. — Christian  Enquirer. 


4  OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS 

We  have  before  us  "  Putnam's,"  for  July.  The  present 
number  commences  the  sixth  volume.  No  periodical  ever 
issued  in  this  country  has  so  soon  acquired  a  permanent 
position  in  the  literary  world  as  this  comparatively  new 
competitor  for  public  favor.  It  takes  the  lead  of  Ameri- 
can magazines,  and  rivals  Blackwood  successfully  in  lit- 
erary merit.  Several  of  its  articles  and  series  of  articles 
have  made  their  authors  famous,  and  given  them  a  ''local 
habitation  and  name"  in  author-land. — Springfield  Non- 
pareil. 

We  have  spoken  thus  at  length  of  "  Putnam's  Monthly" 
because  we  think  it  is  due  to  the  enterprise  that  some 
acknowledgment  should  be  made  of  our  indebtedness  to  it, 
as  a  people.  If  it  has  not  in  every  number  come  up  to  the 
promise  which  it  has  held  out  from  the  beginning,  it  is 
none  the  less  true  that  no  periodical  ever  before  published 
in  our  country  reflected  so  truly  the  thoughts  of  our  Re- 
public.— Stale  of  Maine. 

After  the  perusal  of  the  best  English  periodicals,  it  is 
strangely  refreshing  to  take  up  Putnam — not  that  it  is 
better,  but  so  entirely  different,  and  so  original." — Daily 
British,  Whig. 

There  is  as  much  good  writing  and  literary  ability  in 
this  number  of  Putnam  as  you  will  find  in  Blackwood,  or 
any  of  the  English  Magazines. — N.  Y.  Courier. 

This  Magazine  contains  at  least  one  political  article  in 
each  number  upon  some  great  leading  national  question, 
not  of  a  party  bias  however.  The  work  is  gotten  up  after 
the  manner  of  the  British  Quarterlies,  and  is  the  great  or- 
gan of  the  national  mind.  We  commend  it  to  persons 
desirous  of  looking  ahead  into  what  is  to  come,  rather  than 
what  is  past. — Grant  County  Herald. 

PTTNAM'S  MONTHLY  continues  to  be  the  prince  of 
monthlies,  when  considered  in  the  light  of  real  solid  and 
useful  literary  entertainment.  Its  aim  is  not  merely  to 
amuse,  but  to  educate.  It  is  the  production  of  ripe  schol- 
ars, brilliant  intellects,  and  thinking  minds. —  Wis.  Herald, 
Fon  du  Lac. 

Putnam  comes  last  but  not  least.  It  has  not  a  single 
picture,  not  even  an  embroidered  slipper.  *  *  .  It  is 
simply  a  plain,  well-printed,  original  American  Magazine, 


ON    PUTNAM  S   MONTHLY.  5 

far  from  right  in  many  things,  or  popular  iu  others  ;  but 
evidently  its  deviations  from  right,  on  our  standard  of 
right,  are  not  made  from  a  view  of  catching  the  popular 
current,  nor  are  its  unpopularities  necessarily  evils.  It  is 
the  only  really  original,  masculine-minded  Magazine  in  the 
country,  that  depends  upon  no  clap-trap  of  wood-cuts,  or 
sectionalism  for  an  existence.  It  wns,  for  a  time,  section- 
al ;  but  a  change  has  come  over  it  in  that  respect. — Daily 
Journal,  Wilmington,  N.  C. 

PUTNAM'S  MONTHLY,  which  from  the  first  took  a  high 
place  in  our  magazine  literature,  seems  to  grow  better  and 
better  as  it  grows  older.  It  has  struck  out  a  path  for 
itself,  uniting  grace  and  sentiment  with  the  discussion  of 
political  and  other  grave  problems  ;  and,  although  the 
experiment  seemed  hazardous  in  the  beginning,  it  has 
IK/CM  well  sustained  by  a  discriminating  public. — Chicago 
Daily  Press. 

Even  in  its  treatment  of  the  gravest  topics,  there  is  a 
certain  liveliness  and  spirit  that  must  ensure  for  it  a  wide 
reading. — Evening  Post. 

It  is  evident  that  Putnam  will  not  suffer  in  the  hands  of 
its  new  publishers  ;  and  we  most  heartily  commend  it  to 
the  favorable  notice  of  all  admirers  of  sound  literary  merit, 
and  to  all  well-wishers  to  the  cause  of  American  letters. 
— Exeter  News  Letter. 

It  has  lost  none  of  its  ability  by  the  change. — Louisville 
Journal. 

We  consider  PUTNAM  to  be  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  an 
American  Magazine.  Its  literary  notices  are,  we  opine, 
the  most  impartial  and  the  bt  st  that  appear  in  any  news- 
paper or  periodical  in  the  country. — Dispatch. 

A  magazine  at  once  popular  and  elevated  in  its  standard 
and  tendencies  ;  discriminating,  if  anything,  in  favor  of  the 
cultivated  reader. — Times. 


TKRMS  : — Tfiree  Dollars  a  year,  or  Ttcmty-Five  Cents  a  number.  Svb- 
scribers  remitting  Three  Dollars,  promptly,  in  advance,  to  the  Pub'ish- 
ers,  will  receive  the  work  for  one  year,  post-paid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  States  within  3,000  miles. 


HOUSEHOLD     WORDS. 


CONDUCTED  BY  CHARLES  DICKENS. 


DICKF.NS'  HOUSEHOLD  WORDS,  in  its  monthly  form  takes 
rank  as  a  magazine  of  light  literature,  which  never  fails 
to  interest,  amuse  and  instruct.  The  talent  employed  in 
preparing  its  brief  articles,  has  long  since  made  its  mark 
upon  the  reading  world  ;  for  its  list  of  contributors  num- 
bers many  names  eminent  in  the  domains  of  art  and  sci- 
ence. It  is  decidedly  one  of  the  best  periodicals  to  be 
placed  in  the  hands  of  youthful  readers,  and  fully  merits 
the  vast  circulation  it  has  obtained.  Each  number  of  the 
monthly  reprint  is  complete  in  itself,  and  can  be  taken  up 
at  sll  times  without  trespassing  upon  the  memory  or  tiring 
the  energies. — N.  Y.  Mercantile  Journal. 

HOUSEHOLD  WORDS. — Our  readers  will  remember  that 
we  have  occasionally  noticed  this  periodical  in  compli- 
mentary terms.  It  is,  as  most  are  aware,  a  weekly  pam- 
phlet, published  in  London,  by  Charles  Dickens.  It  is 
republished  in  this  country,  both  as  a  weekly  and  a 
monthly.  The  contents  are  made  up  of  stories,  many  of 
them  Dickens',  and  in  his  best  style,  essays  on  scientific 
subjects,  with  a  view  of  making  them  familiar  to  all  classes, 
political  disquisitions,  etc.,  etc.,  in  all  these  breathe  the 
spirit  of  the  editor.  His  devotion  to  the  interest  of  pop- 
ular reform,  his  thorough  despite  of  that  rank  which  the 
accident  of  birth  gives,  in  a  word,  his  well-known  love  of 
pure  Democracy  characterizes  every  line.  This  periodical 
is  published  in  a  cheap  form,  so  that  it  goes  into  the  hands 
of  the  entire  reading  community  of  the  British  Empire, 
and  is  read  with  delight  by  that  class  which  goes  to  make 
up  the  bone  and  sinew  of  a  country. 

We  must  confess  we  were  taken  a  little  by  surprise  at 
the  remark  of  a  veiy  intelligent  friend  the  other  day.  On 
being  asked  who  he  thought  was  the  greatest  man  of  the 
present  day,  he  replied,  "  Charles  Dickens."  The  more 
one  reflects  upon  this  man  and  everything  connected  with 


HOUSEHOLD  WORDS. OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS.         7 

him,  however,  the  more  satisfied  he  becomes  that  the  an- 
swer might  have  been  wider  of  the  truth.  If,  to  have 
gained  a  complete  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  of  the 
springs  of  human  action  ;  if  to  have  aimed  to  touch  those 
springs  so  as  to  move  thousands,  to  joy,  grief,  indignation, 
or  which  ever  way  he  pleases  ;  if  to  have  devoted  himself 
to  the  amelioration  of  misery,  the  undoing  of  wrong,  the 
education  of  mankind,  and  to  have  brought  his  power  and 
knowledge  into  successful  action  in  these  efforts  is  any 
mark  of  greatness,  then  Charles  Dickens  is  indeed  a  great 
man. 

Nor  need  even  he  regret  the  success  of  his  efforts. 
Reforms  in  the  Domestic  laws,  policy,  customs,  and  habits 
of  the  people  of  England  are  this  day  enjoyed,  which  but 
for  him,  or  some  "  such  as  he,"  would  never  have  been 
thought  of.  Evils  that  have  been  borne  for  ages  are  now 
unheard  of.  Dickens  does  not  so  much  write  the  songs 
of  the  people,  by  which  they  may  be  moved  to  impulsive 
action,  as  their  thoughts  and  opinions,  by  which,  with 
a  sure  and  steady  movement,  they  are  led  to  accomplish 
lasting  results.  That,  indeed,  he  is  entitled  to  the  dis- 
tinction of  being  the  greatest  man  of  the  age,  we  are  not 
prepared  to  agree,  but  that  he  is  entitled  to  precedence 
over  many  whom  accident  or  intrigue  has  made  famous, 
and  that  posterity  will  award  him  that  precedence  we  do 
not  doubt. 

Meanwhile,  if  any  person  wants  a  periodical  which 
unites  more  instruction  and  amusement  than  any  other, 
let  them  subscribe  for  Household  Words. —  Columbia 
Democrat. 

DICKENS'  HOUSEHOLD  WORDS. — Among  all  the  monthly 
or  quarterly  or  other  periodical  publications,  we  know  of 
none  that  we  can  so  confidently  commend  to  our  readers 
as  likely  to  be  both  interesting  and  instructive.  Its  con- 
tents embrace  all  forms  of  instruction  and  amusement  from 
science  to  satire,  and  in  every  form  presented  with  a  mas- 
terly skill.  The  present  number  well  sustains  the  repu- 
tation it  has  acquired. — Indianapolis  Daily  Journal. 

HOUSEHOLD  WORDS. — The  monthly  edition  of  this  work 
forms  one  of  the  best  family  magazines  published  in  this 
country.  It  has  a  great  deal  of  light  reading  which  at- 
tracts the  young,  and  gives  one  a  very  clear  insight  into 


8        HOUSEHOLD  WORDS. OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS. 

the  social  life  of  England,  without  being  historically  dry  or 
dull. — Journal  and  Visitor.  Pa. 

WERE  we  out  of  our  chair  editorial,  as  a  "  private  citi- 
zen" cut  off  from  our  exchange  list  and  all  that,  one  of  the 
first  magazines  to  which  we  should  become  a  subscriber, 
would  be  Dickens'  Household  Words.  This  is  a  publica- 
tion wholly  out  of  the  usual  line,  and  beyond  the  common 
order  of  Magazine  literature — with  point  and  meaning, 
when  it  is  gay  or  sportive,  and  eminently  instructive 
when  serious  and  reflecting.  Much  of  this  work  is  devoted 
to  the  discussion  and  illustration  of  just  such  subjects  as 
will  greatly  benefit,  while  it  deeply  interests,  the  general 
seeker  after  knowledge,  desirous  of  really  useful  informa- 
tion. Should  anything  we  might  say  induce  any  one  to 
try  Household  Words  for  a  while,  we  believe  they  will 
thank  us  from  their  hearts  as  benefactors,  so  far  at  least. 
—  Woodville  Republican. 

HOUSEHOLD  WORDS. — A  better  work  for  the  family  cir- 
cle we  are  not  acquainted  with.  We  cheerfully  recom- 
mend it  to  our  readers. — Courier.  Conneautsville,  IJa. 

HOUSEHOLD  WORDS,  that  every  one  would  be  the  better 
for  making  themselves  familiar  with.  The  best  light  lit- 
erature of  England,  from  the  pens  of  her  most  cherished 
authors,  appear  periodically  in  this  work,  and  the  Ameri- 
can edition  is  printed  and  published  simultaneously  with 
the  English  one. — N.  Y.  Dispatch. 

HOUSEHOLD  WORDS. — The  number  for  August  lies  before 
us — for  charming  variety  it  is  like  a  well-selected  bouquet, 
pleasant  to  the  eye,  and  graceful  to  the  nostrils.  But  we 
have  more  than  the  agreeable — there  is  much  that  is  highly 
instructive.  Indeed,  the  tendency  of  this  publication  is  to 
improve  the  human  heart,  and  to  call  forth  its  purest  sym- 
pathies. Very  rarely  does  it  contain  anything  that  can 
give  just  cause  of  offense  to  the  most  .sensitive  mind. 
— N.  Y.  Citizen. 


TERMS  :—  Three  Dollars  a  year,  or   Twenty-Five   Cents  a  number. 
"  Putnam's  Monthly"  and  "Household  Words"  Five  Dollars. 

DIX  &  EDWARDS, 

10  Park  Place. 


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